


Mutant X

by witka



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Charles has a broken mind, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Human Experimentation, Hurt, Hurt Charles, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Minor Character Death, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Personalities, Mutant Experimentation, Mutant Powers, Probably more tags later, Protective Azazel, Protective Everyone, Rape, Recovery, Sexual Abuse, Slash, Slow Build, Torture, labs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:39:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1926930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witka/pseuds/witka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor X sat on a wall<br/>Professor X had a great fall<br/>And all Raven's horses,<br/>And all Erik's men,<br/>Couldn't put Charles,<br/>Together again.</p><p>AU: What if Trask had managed to capture Charles and turned him into one of his test subjects? A mind can only stretch so far before it snaps and it can only bear so much before it breaks. What happens when the most powerful brain in the world is finally destroyed under the weight of all that has been done to it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Mutant X

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the AU that's been banging in my head and would not leave me alone. Its a bit of slow build and poor Charles is not going to be having a fun time. In fact this might just be an excuse for me to torture poor Charles. It also gives me a way to leave the people I like alive.

_Excerpt from a copy of the Trask Industries research file on the test subject identified as Mutant X:_

 

Mutant X is the designation given to the mutant that was captured by Project Wide Awake in 1966. Subject had come up in reference to the known mutant terrorist known as Magneto. Mutant X was found alone and undefended. Subject agreed to come without resistance on the promise that none of his known associates would be taken.

Mutant X has shown stunning mental capabilities on an unprecedented level. These telepathic abilities were briefly mentioned in the files provided by the CIA contacts, however the true extent was not made clear. The full limits of Mutant X's mind have not yet been fully explored. Each time his powers seem to have been fully exposed, his powers seem to expand. Prolonged exposure to the Cyberno machine has been shown to enhance Mutant X's abilities.

Upon first being remanded to the facility, Mutant X was resistant to any cooperation. There were several incidents where he was able to take control of the guards and technicians, causing them to aid in the escapes of other mutant test subjects. It was only upon threatening the other subjects that cooperation was achieved. Subject appears to have bonded closely with one of the other subject, known as Mutant A. This bond has proved useful in keeping Mutant X under control. Interaction with Mutant A seems to help the subject retain lucidity for longer periods of time.

Four years into research with Mutant X, the subject suffered a debilitating episode of seizures and coma-like states. Partial recover has been shown, however the subject has not returned to the previous level of cognition. After this incident, Mutant X became prone to various fits of rage, sadness and and increased amount of seizures. When not suffering an episode, subject is largely unresponsive to most stimuli and orders must be repeated clearly until he shows a reaction. Mutant X still shows a reaction to pain though, and often this can be used to draw a reaction out of him.

Mutant A has became the only one able to reach him when suffering through these episodes. He also interacts with Mutant A when not having an episode, though the interactions are limited. Instead of being repulsed by Mutant X's condition and presence as some subjects were, Mutant A appears to have taken on the role of caregiver for Mutant X when allowed. Observation has shown him speaking to the subject and referring to him with various pet names. This has caused Mutant A to be maintained at the facility past the point where studies of his mutation proved useful. (See related report on Mutant A for further information.)

Mutant X's known disability did prove to be a inconvenience while subject was lucid and interacting. However once subject became catatonic and largely unresponsive, care became much easier.

See attached documents for experiment notations.

 

_The original file and all attached notes have been removed. The theft was believed to have been perpetrated by the mutant known as Mystique. Files relating to Mutant A, mutant autopsies and information about the Pennsylvania facility are also confirmed to have been taken by her._

 

 


	2. Professor, May I Go To War?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the next chapter. I wanted to get it out soon since prologue was so short. If we're lucky I might be updating around once a week or so.

_Professor, may we go to war?_

_Yes, you may, my pupils;_

_Wear your special combat suits,_

_But don't fire your sonic blasts._

 

There were a lot of cliché phrases Sean could think of for war. However because they were cliché, he never said them out loud. He might have a loud mouth, but enough combat tours had taught him that not everything needed to be shared. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to be telling his squad mates anything new.

They weren't a bad group of guys he was currently serving with. A little rough around the edges and two of them liked getting into fights, which the rest then had to pull them out from before they killed the other guys. But then again, what else would you expect from a unit made up of mutants? Most of them had giant chips on their shoulders because of how they were treated. If it weren't for the Professor, maybe Sean would have ended up like that, it was hard to tell.

All Sean really knew was that he could not wait to get the hell out of Vietnam. Get the hell out of Vietnam and be done with the army in general. Supposedly they were shipping troops home because the government had finally tired of of sending people over here to die. Or something like that, Alex always understood that stuff better than he did.

Glancing to the side, he caught Alex staring pensively at the medical personal that were packing up all of the samples they'd taken from their team. Alex, the one thing that had made this whole thing bearable. The fact that he got to share it with his friend, and brother-in-arms made being here easier. Vietnam was the first war they had been in, but it certainly wasn't the first time either of them had been soldiers.

Sean thought back to when he had first been drafted. Alex had been the first to get sent to this hellhole, Sean hadn't been drafted until almost a year later. His original unit had been wiped out during the Tet Offensive. Sometimes he still had dreams about that damn fight, things exploding and people screaming as they died.

After that, there had been some debate on whether to leave him here or ship him back home for a 'special program'. Lucky for him it seemed the special program didn't need any more people and he was able to get himself reassigned into what ended up being Alex's unit. That was where he had stayed, with the 'Freak Squad' as he'd heard them called. That nickname usually led to a fight if you said it in Ink's presence.

Sean shifted on the bunk, watching Alex brood on his bunk, randomly flexing his hands. They'd been put in a medical tent after their last patrol, something about having caught some kind of exotic jungle disease. The medical officers said they were being quarantined so that tests could be run to find out what it was. Sean thought the entire thing was bullshit. None of them had felt sick, well no more sick than the last time they smoked weed that Toad had gotten.

It was obvious that something else was going on. He'd brought it up to Alex who had agreed with him, but he'd warned Sean to keep quiet about it until they knew more. He did tell Sean to be ready at any time though, in case they needed to make a break for it. Whatever was going down had Alex on edge which meant it had Sean on edge too. It never boded well if you were a mutant stuck in a room with a lot of medical and science people, especially if you were supposed to be shipping out. The last time this had happened, they'd been close to sending Sean over for that special project. Evidently the special project wasn't finished, just delayed.

“Aten-hut!” At Alex's barked command, Sean and the entire platoon jumped to their feet, moving to attention.

“At ease.” Thankfully the reprieve came quickly and Sean dropped back down onto his bunk. The colonel that stepped in was not one Sean had seen before. He was a bald, thin, dour faced man with pale watery blue eyes dressed in green fatigues. He seemed to be making a note to look at everyone he passed. However when he passed by Alex's bunk, and then Sean's own, he winked. Both of them frowned and looked at each other once he passed, silently trying to figure out what was going on with him.

Obviously no one else had seen it because no one reacted to it. Or else their squad mates were too concerned with what seemed to be going on to bother to comment on it. The again, they had all been subdued since they'd been put into this quarantined metal can. They weren't allowed to leave because they might be contagious, but none of the medical personnel seemed to be worried about catching whatever it was they were supposed to have.

Sean caught Alex's eyes, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head towards the colonel. One of the uses he'd discovered for his powers was that he could hear a bit better than normal people, which made sense since all of his powers focused on making noise. It would be kind of useless if he went deaf from using it. At Alex's nod he closed his eyes, trying to zero in on the conversation they were having.

“Lab reports, blood tests. Its all getting packed up and shipped back.”

“Where's it going?” The sounds of shuffling papers.

“The same place they are, Trask Industries.”

Those words made a chill go down Sean's spine. He remembered hearing that, he also remembered that people who got sent there never really came back the same. That was if they came back at all. He opened his eyes and looked at Alex, giving a slight shake of his head. Nothing good was going to come of this, and at the risk of reprising a cliché, even in his own head, he had a bad feeling about this. Which seemed to be proven immediately right when a new group of men entered.

“Come on gentlemen, taking you out of this shit show.” The man who spoke seemed to be the leader, wearing a black beret and green fatigues with a major's rank insignia on the shoulder. The rest of his team though, they were all dressed in black and armed, which did nothing to make Sean more comfortable.

“Shipping home?” Alex asked the question but it was on everyone's mind.

“Not just yet.” The man actually checked his watch, like he was on some kind of schedule. That's when Sean definitely knew he wasn't going anywhere with these dicks.

That feeling increased when one of the soldiers opened a case that showed a neat line of syringes and bottles of liquid. “What are you doing with those?” Toad beat Sean to the question, looking at the man from under his goggles.

“Something to make the ride a little smoother. We're transferring you to a private facility where we can... run a few more tests.” Sean wanted to punch that asshole in his smarmy face and yell that he didn't anything to make the ride smooth. He'd been on plenty of rough flights with no problem. Of course he didn't say that. Mostly because if he stood up and started screaming, he wasn't going to stop until everyone in the tent was on the floor with ruptured ear drums.

Few more tests they say, always a few more tests. He wasn't going to end his life as a lab rat. The Professor probably wouldn't be happy to hear about anything that was about to go down, but he'd understand. There was a line between self-defense and aggression. Admittedly its a fine line, however Sean was confident this time he'd be on the side of self-defense.

Looking around as the man loaded a syringe, Sean saw the same hesitancy on everyone else's face. Even Alex looked like he would fight before letting them anywhere near him with a needle.

“Your men are not military.” It was the colonel who spoke, and Sean realized he'd completely forgotten the older man was still there. Yet here he was, staring them down.

“Private outfit.” He waved a piece of paper at the colonel. “We're authorized to remand these men.” There was that smarmy smirk again, and Sean picked up the sound of Alex's teeth grinding together.

There was a quick look at the paperwork before the colonel was looking up again. “These troops are going home.” That caught Sean off guard. Most of the commanding officers didn't give a damn about the Freak Squad as long as they got the job done and came back. Even fewer would actually bother to stand up for them. Just who was this guy?

“Well colonel, I don't believe you have jurisdiction in this matter.”

The colonel gifted him with a tight and entirely fake smile. “I'm afraid I do son.”

“I'm sorry, who are you?”

“The question is, major...” He picked up the major's dogtags, looking them over. “Who are you?” There was a moment of loaded silence, then the colonel gave a yank on the tags, his entire body shifting into a very familiar one. Sean caught Alex's equally shocked expression.

If Sean had been asked to list the people he thought he would be least likely to run into in an army camp in Vietnam, Raven would probably have been in the top five. Yet here she was, in all of her naked blue glory. (And what glory it was, he was sure Alex would forgive him for looking. It wasn't like Raven minded...)

Almost immediately his former friend was in motion, performing some rather crazy kung fu stunts. Sean wondered if she'd learned it after going with Erik or if she'd known it before. A thought for later as he caught Alex's eyes, then looked at their squad mates. When Raven dropped one of the soldiers into some kind of bizarre leg lock, the rest of them sprung into action.

Ink made half the medical team throw up and Blackout caused the rest of keel over unconscious. Right as one of the soldiers pulled a gun on Raven, that's when Toad struck. He grabbed it with his tongue, broke the man's wrist and pulled the gun back to him. Sean hung back with Alex though, mostly because his power was not subtle enough to be of use in this situation. Yeah, he could scream at a frequency to make people unconscious, but the dogs two tents over would go absolutely apeshit. Alex... well Alex was always going to be destructive, so he liked to save it for the one's he really disliked.

By this point the major was moving around again, grabbing for a discarded gun. Raven calmly stood up and walked over to him, grabbing his gun arm with one hand and his throat with the other. The major struggled as he choked, so of course that was when Alex had to butt his blonde head in.

“Raven!” Striding forward, every inch the the squad leader.

“That's not my name.” She didn't even look at him, all of her focus on the man she was choking.

Sean wanted to roll his eyes, but now wasn't really the time for it. Especially since he knew exactly what Alex was planning to do. He brought his arm up, unleashing a plasma blast from his hand that hit the major square in the neck and face, throwing him to the back of the tent.

That finally got Raven's attention, yellow eyes turning to focus on them as Alex shook his hand out. “I had that.”

“We know.” Sean felt it was finally time to speak up, a smirk crossing his lips. “But he was obviously and asshole, and Alex likes taking down the assholes.” Alex smirked, meeting Sean's eyes for a minute before glancing back at Raven.

“Let's move out. Come on let's go.” She didn't wait for any kind of response, marching towards the exit. The other's moved to grab there things but Sean was curious about one thing.

“Where's Erik?” He didn't really want to see his former teacher again, unless it was to hurt him, but Raven had become his sidekick, so it was rare to see her without him.

“I'm on my own now.” No backward glance, no further explanation. Not that they really had any time for further pleasantries. Everyone would get up soon and their whole squad needed to be gone by that point. Raven smoothly shifted back to the form of the colonel and they all fell in line behind her, shouldering their packs and quick stepping towards the airfield. A plane was getting ready to take off that would be their first step back home.

“Hold that plane!” The order was shouted to be heard over the propellers, but no one questioned it. The airman just waved them on. “We don't want to leave these boys in this godforsaken country!”

Sean and Alex were the last two to get on, pausing to look at Raven who made no move to get on board.

“You're not coming with us are you?” Alex was always good at asking the awkward questions, its one of the things Sean liked about him.

“My war's not over. The enemy's still out there.” The borrowed face was set in a grim line, making it obvious the enemy had nothing to do with Charlie or Vietnam.

“Just take care of yourself. The Professor would never forgive you if if you got hurt.” Sean flashed a grin at Raven, taking in her blink of surprise. He reached out and patted her on the shoulder before she moved away. They walked up the ramp as it closed behind them, dropping onto one of the hard benches. Everyone was tense and fidgeting as they waited for the plane to take off. No one relaxed until it was in the air and the only thing visible underneath them was blue ocean. That was when they knew they were safe or as safe as they could be.

An hour of silence was about all that Sean could take. They were safely on the plane, heading back home to hopefully get the hell out of military service once and for all. “So what are you all going to do once we're out of this rat race?”

There was a groan that sounded like it came from Alex. Sean ignored him, watching his squad. Ink snorted from across the way, finally dropping his hands from where he'd been nervously drumming them together. “What are you going to do? You might as well go first.”

Sean shrugged, leaning back and crossing his arms across his chest. “That's easy. I'm going to sleep on an actual bed, then I'm going to go and have a cold glass of Coke and a decent meal. None of this freeze dried shit. Then once I'm out of the army all together, I dunno, maybe I'll continue my education. Find a nice blonde to settle down with.” He cast a look at his friend. “What about you Alex?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “You'd have to find someone to put up with your horrible pick up lines first. Especially if you're looking for a blonde.” He was quiet for me a moment before speaking. “I'm definitely going to finish my education. Then I might become a teacher.”

“A teacher, don't know how you'd handle that.” Sean responded, which was actually a code between them. Their way of confirming that as soon as they got out they were going to go back to the school and the Professor. Even thought they hadn't received any letters from him, they knew they would go back to him.

“Well then its a good thing I'm going to have a nice red head to help me with it.” Alex responded, leaning his head back. “Now shut up Banshee and let the rest of us get some shut eye.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promised the actual chapters would be longer. The nursery rhyme at the beginning is an altered version of "Father, May I go to war?" I just modified it because I don't have the patience to make that kind of thing up from scratch.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it, and if you want to join in my picture obsession, you can find me on tumblr. http://girlinageekworld.tumblr.com/


	3. Where Are You Going, My Mystique So Fair?

_Where are you going, my Mystique so fair?_

_Where are you going, my Mystique so fair?_

_My way to the lab I wend,_

_experiments to free._

 

Mystique, though she would never admit it to anyone, was glad to be back in the United States. She'd gotten a lot of mutants out of Vietnam, but after the incident when she had gotten Havok and Banshee's squad out, they'd started paying more attention. She barely gotten another squad out, and at that point she knew it was time to leave. She'd done what she could, plus she'd finally gotten a lead on where exactly the mutants kept being sent to.

Trask Industries, weapons manufacturer for the government, but not just that. Supposedly it also dealt in aeronautics and worked to create new prosthetics, quite a few of which were donated to veteran hospitals. On the outside it was a perfectly modern, nearly ideal company. Certainly nothing on the surface that would make it seem like the sort of place that would be dealing with mutant experimentation. However Mystique had realized long ago that pretty masks were just that, masks. Often hiding something more sinister and rotten underneath. She knew that fact better than most.

Charles had shown her that, Erik as well. Charles, even now the name filled her with a mixture of emotions that were hard to name. In her head only, Mystique could admit that she missed him, missed him more than she thought she would. She'd made a choice to leave though, her own choice for once, not influenced by Charles and his opinions. Most days Mystique was, if not happy exactly, at least content with her choice. She was making a difference, fighting back for her own kind against the ones who would hurt them. Or make them hide, like Charles had wanted her to do.

Sometimes though, when the isolation got too much, Mystique thought about going back to Charles. It was harder to be alone than it sounded. Part of her would always want to go back, would always consider herself to be Raven, Charles' Raven. She was certain that part would never leave her, and it was that very part that held her back. Because she wasn't sure he would take her back, not after she betrayed and abandoned him in Cuba. After she did the one thing she knew Charles feared above everything else. If it had been her in that position, Mystique didn't think she'd accept the person who did that back. The idea that he would reject her, that kept her away more than anything else.

Still, Mystique had never liked being alone, despite what she tried to convince others of. When the Brotherhood had been together it had been easier. There were others with her, those that shared her ideals and then there had been Erik. Erik whom she hadn't seen since he had left. Gone to Dallas and killed a president which resulted in him getting imprisoned. After that, the Brotherhood had tried to stay together, to continue functioning without their leader.

That had become significantly harder after the Wide Awake attack that had caused Angel and Azazel to be captured and scattered the rest of them. She had been able to find Riptide and Emma a few weeks after, but it had been mutually decided it was too dangerous for them all to stay together. They were Erik's most well known associates and given what had already happened they were obviously high value targets. The three of them had split and it had been Mystique on her own ever since.

Fortunately, Erik was someone who believed in foresight and being prepared. He had created accounts for all of them out of the funds he'd acquired in the years he'd been hunting Shaw. Unfortunately, most of those accounts had been frozen by this point. Which meant they were useless to Mystique. She was just lucky that Charles had never closed out the accounts he'd opened for Raven when they had still been together. Mystique in general didn't feel bad about using Xavier money to fund her own missions. She was saving mutants, maybe not the way that Charles would have liked, but she was still saving them and she knew he would support that.

When they finally called the boarding for her plane, Mystique was grateful. She needed something to break her away from the useless thoughts that had been taking up her mind. Once on the plane it was easier to focus on her next goal. She was going to get into Trask Industries offices in Virginia and find out just what he had been planning to use mutants for. For that to succeed though, she needed to do research.

The first things she'd learned from Erik was the fact that just imitating looks wasn't enough. It didn't matter how much she looked like the person if she couldn't act like them. So that meant she needed to learn as much about Trask as she could in the time it took her to get from California to Washington DC. The first things she pulled out was an issue of Popular Mechanics that featured him on the cover. Staring at the picture, she wondered why exactly he had chosen to experiment on mutants. He wasn't normal either, you'd have thought that someone like that would be more sympathetic to those that were different.

She shook her head, returning her focus to the article at hand. Trask's motives were not important, what was important was getting into his office so she could find out what had happened to her brother and sister mutants. That was what Mystique cared about, it was all that she could care about. Anything else was superfluous and would not help with her mission.

By the time she made it to Virginia, Mystique was as much of an expert on Dr Bolivar Trask as it was possible to be. At least without having ever met the man in person. Now she needed to move on to the next phase, reconnaissance. That part was simple really, she rented a car and drove to McClean, stopping only once to get directions to the building. It was a tall, dull, concrete block structure and inside wasn't much better. There was lots of glass along the walls, and Mystique felt a distinct pang of pity for the poor janitorial staff that had to clean them all.

Mystique had spent her fair share of time as part of cleaning staff in various places. It was an easy disguise to slip into and so few people ever paid attention to the janitors. A perfect disguise for figuring out the layout of a building because there was always an excuse as to why you were there. It took her less than an hour to get the layout of the building and to find the location Trask's office.

The actual break-in took place at night. She shifted into Trask's form, giving herself a moment to adjust to the drastically decreased height. Then she calmly stepped out of the elevator and on to the top floor, walking by the janitor who was cleaning some of the windows. What was unexpected was the secretary, who stood up in surprise at Trask's presence.

“I thought you would be getting ready for your trip sir.”

“Just came to pick up a few files.” She still looked surprised, so Mystique went with the next thing to put people off guard. “Is that a new scarf? Its nice.” She didn't wait for the secretaries response, instead going immediately up the spiral concrete staircase. The secretaries thanks floated after her as she went.

Once she was certain she was out of sight of anybody, she shifted to her natural form. Trask's office was all sleek metal and glass, modernism in the extreme. Mystique was sure it was the influence of having grown up with Charles, but she had no real enjoyment out of modern architecture and design. It lacked the warmth that places like Oxford and the house had.

There was no time for those kind of thoughts though, not when Mystique was presented with Trask's desk. She breezed through the ledgers on the desk, glancing towards the stairs every so often in case someone came up. She abandoned the papers on the desk for the drawers. However a quick glance over them showed nothing that would be helpful to her cause. Closing one of the drawers more forcefully than needed, Mystique glanced around the office to find where he would have hidden the files.

The large portrait of Trask with a small child in a wheelchair caught her eye. It was big and self-aggrandizing, not something Mystique had come to associate with Trask after her research of him. It was also too large and didn't fit with the rest of the décor. For that reason alone, Mystique decided it needed a closer look. The picture as it turned out, swung out on a hinge and behind it was a thumb-print scanner. She could appreciate the cleverness.

It took only a few seconds to change her thumb to Trask's and scan it. The scan opened a door which seemed to reveal where Trask hid all of his dirty secrets. Carefully she pulled out a few of the drawers, looking for any files that would tell her what Trask had been doing. After checking several drawers, she came across the one she was looking for.

Several files were highlighted, but three caught her attention immediately. One read simply Autopsy Reports, which was the first one she looked at. Flipping it open she was immediately presented with the picture of a mutant she hadn't known, but the stitched Y-shaped incision stood out sharply. She flipped to the next page, and the next confronted by more photos of death. When Mystique reached the final pages though, her heart jumped up in her throat.

Now the faces became one's she recognized. There was Emma, still managing to look beautiful and pristine despite the autopsy incisions. Her blonde hair had been shorn in places, pale bits of scalp showing through. The next page had Mystique looking at Janos, the quiet mutant looked liked he'd just fallen asleep, if she didn't see the scars and wounds from what had to be experiments. The last page though, that page made Mystique stop breathing and want to cry. Angel's face illuminated in the picture. One of her beautiful wings was missing, and there were stitched wounds on her face with half of her hair gone. Mystique felt a tear going down her face and frantically had to fight to keep form sobbing.

Mystique pulled the last couple of reports out before closing the file and putting it back into its position. She turned to the next couple of files, her eyes catching on the title of one of them. 'Mutant A' it read in bold print, calling to her. She pulled the file out with trembling hands, flipping it open. On the first page she was confronted with a picture of Azazel. Not the Azazel she had known, suave and charming, immaculately groomed no matter what was going on. The Azazel that stated out of her was sullen looking, eyes sunken and his hair and beard long and unkempt. New scars crossed his face and the little farther down that could be seen from the head shot. The rest of the file was no better.

 

_Mutant A has shown form previous encounters an ability to teleport between various places. It is possible, even likely that his range extends miles, possibly hundreds of miles at one time. He has also shown the ability to transport people across that distance as well. Of course given the nature of his power, we have been unable to obtain many live demonstrations. Subject has also shown an increase in agility and strength which is believed to be the result of his mutation. Also he has shown to have direct control over his tail, having used it several times to try and injure some of the scientists._

_The most intriguing recent developments though, involve his interactions with Mutant X. At first the two had only seemingly limited interaction, but as Mutant X's condition deteriorated it was decided to allow them to interact on a physical basis. The result of this seemed to be the building of a trust relationship between them that has proven useful since Mutant X has now dropped to a near catatonic state. (See the related file Mutant X for more information.)_

_At the moment because Mutant A is the only one effectively able to reach Mutant X or calm him during his occasional fits, Mutant A will continue to be held in Pittsburg facility._

 

“Doctor Trask?” The secretary's voice cut through the air like a knife.

It didn't even take a thought for Mystique to shift her vocal chords. “One second.” She quickly stuffed the file back in its place, shifting back to Trask. She came around the corner right as the Secretary cleared the desk.

“We added some names to the Paris meeting.” She gave a slight smile as she handed over the paper.

“Thank you.” She said, looking up to meet the woman's eyes.

“Is... is something wrong sir?”

That was when Mystique became aware of the tear that had made it all the way down her cheek. “No.” Quickly she wiped it away. “Its nothing. Would you mind typing up my itinerary? I don't want to miss anything.” The woman gave a small smile before walked off.

Mystique tracked her until she was back down the steps. Then she turned and went back to the hidden files. She grabbed the Mutant A file and the rest of the autopsy reports. She was about to leave when another file caught her attention. Mutant X, that was the name that had been listed in Azazel's file. She grabbed that one too, it might contain more information on what happened to Azazel. Plus, it was the file of another mutant brother or sister that had been tortured by Trask.

Later that night, tucked into a cheap motel that wouldn't ask questions, Mystique read Azazel's file. It left her shaking with rage and conflicted on what to do next. Part of her desperately wanted to go and hunt Trask down, kill him for what he had done to them. She knew where he would be, when he would be there, it would be so easy to just get on a plane tomorrow, go to Paris and end it. Yet there was also the fact that Azazel was alive, alive and living in a lab being tortured. Mystique didn't want to leave him there to suffer further. The files stated he was alive, but who knew how long he would get to stay that way?

No, she decided. She would get Azazel out of the lab first, and then she would go after Trask. She could always find him again, and perhaps Azazel would wish to join her in seeking revenge on this man who thought to use them like lab rats.

Now that Mystique was decided though, there was the question of how she would go about freeing him. She knew her own strengths, she would be good at breaking in. Freeing the others though, that was going to take more than just her. It hurt to admit it, but Mystique couldn't do this on her own any longer. She had done well, kept the fight going, but if they were to continue, to get mutants to rally to their cause, they needed a leader. They needed, she needed, Erik.

So he first step would be to get Erik out from that glass and concrete prison they held him in. To do that, she was going to need outside help. Fortunately she did happen to know two mutants that would be perfect for the job that had just been discharged from the Army. She would get them to help her, and if they objected... well they did owe her one for getting them out of Vietnam.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time we get Mystique's point of view. This is a bit of a slow build because there's still a few more chapters before Charles even shows up. But I like to think the set up will be worth it.
> 
> This time the nursery rhyme was 'Where are you going, my Marie so fair?'. Thank you everyone who responded and left kudos before. You all are wonderful peoples. :)
> 
> As always feel free to bug me on tumblr and watch my rabid reposting of everything. http://girlinageekworld.tumblr.com/


	4. Mutants, Mutants Come Out And Play

_Mutants, mutants come out an play,_

_The moon it shines bright as day;_

_Leave your supper, and leave your sleep,_

_And come to your comrades in the street;_

_Come with a scream, come with a call,_

_Come with good will, or come not at all;_

_Down the elevator and up the wall._

_A half-baked plan will serve us all._

 

Harry's Hideaway hadn't really changed that much, not that Alex had really been allowed inside of it prior to being drafted. Well, legally allowed in. Between Sean, Hank and himself, he was the one that could pull off looking the oldest, he'd also had the best fake ID. So he'd been able to go in and order a beer on occasion when the school had been running. Now though, there was no need for that kind of subterfuge. Alex was more than old enough, so was Sean, even if he didn't act like it sometimes.

After returning from Vietnam, their discharge had been swift. That had been the one thing that had gone right about their discharge. Alex had tried to call the school, but he hadn't gotten any response. Next he tried to call the number that Hank had sent in his last letter, he's listed it as his work phone. That at least provided results because he was able to reach Hank, who was glad to hear they'd been discharged. When Alex asked about the Professor though, his friend had gone very quiet. Then he had suggested they meet at Harry's Hideaway.

Alex hadn't made it through all those tours in Vietnam without being able to tell when something off. Fortunately Sean agreed, but then again as he liked to point out, he stayed alive following Alex's lead. They'd gotten into Salem Center earlier in the day and had looked for a way to pass the time. They had passed by the mansion, surprised to see how over grown and run down it looked. Alex felt the dread building inside of him, something he knew his partner shared.

They didn't always need words to communicate at this point. Alex liked the easy nature of it. Sometimes he wondered if this was what it had been like for the Professor, when Erik had still been around. Maybe it had been, Alex would never know because he'd never ask the Professor about it. As far as he was concerned, Erik could rot and die in that little cement hole of his.

He and Sean had just settled back into a rear table with their beers when the door opened again. Alex didn't bother to look up, instead he turned to watch as Sean looked over. Sean's face had always been expressive, it was fascinating to watch. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the door, then his eyes widened in surprise before a giant grin split his face.

“Hank!” Sean's voice rang out, followed by some energetic waving.

It was only then that Alex looked up, almost choking on the sip of beer he'd just taken. “Beast?” It should have been impossible, but there was Hank McCoy, standing there in all his nerdy glory, just distinctly lacking in blue fur. Alex set the beer down with a thunk, shaking his head. “What happened to you?”

Hank just flashed a small smile before sitting down, fiddling with the bottle of Coke he had gotten at the bar. “Well, its kind of fascinating really. I've been working on a new serum for a couple of years. Not to cure myself, but just to help me get better control of my mutation. It took some time but I finally found a formula that works. It helps me control my mutation but if, if I needed to I could change.” He took a sip of his soda before fidgeting again. “I had... I originally developed it for Charles, to try and help with his spine.”

Alex tried to pretend he'd understood any of that, not that it really mattered. What he focused on was the last part of the the speech. “Have you seen the Professor? We tried to call him when we got back but there was no answer.”

“Yeah and he didn't write or anything, which was kind of strange.” Sean said, taking a sip of his beer. “I sent a couple of letters over during my first tour, except the last one got returned to me.” Sean leaned forward, staring at Hank intently. “What happened?”

Alex watched as Hank ducked his head, rolling the bottle between his hands. “The thing is, Charles is missing. It was just about a year after you both got drafted and the school closed.” He took a gulp of his drink before setting it down.

“He disappeared!?” Alex wasn't normally someone who shouted, but that was just unbelievable. “Didn't you try to find him? Search? Where the hell were you Hank? We told you to look after him when we left!”

The other mutant just seemed to shrink into himself as he sat there. “I'm sorry Alex, I am. I tried to watch after him, but there was a threat of me being drafted next. I couldn't go over to fight, not.. looking the way I do. I had gotten a job offer to do some research in Montreal, Charles told me I should take it.”

Anger lit up Alex's whole frame, and for the first time in many years he felt like he could honestly loose control of his power. Hank had one job, just one, make sure that the Professor was taken care of while they were gone. And he'd left him behind and alone. It was only Sean's hand reaching across him that held him back.

“What happened next Hank? Why didn't you tell us?”

“When I came back for a weekend a few months later, there was no one at the house. It hadn't been broken into, I couldn't find any sign of him. There wasn't even a note to explain what had happened. I looked everywhere for him, then I filed a police report. Nothing came of it. I've been looking ever since, but I haven't been able to find anything.” Hank stared down at the table. “I'm sorry, I really am.”

Alex swallowed, slowly forcing himself to relax. Hank sounded honestly repentant about it, getting angry wasn't going to do anything. It certainly wouldn't bring the Professor back to them. Alex picked up his beer, downing it in a few long pulls before he felt able to speak. “Its...” He couldn't bring himself to spout the normal platitudes. “We'll find him Hank, together the three of us can do it.”

Sean nodded, finishing his own beer and setting it down. “We're a team after all. The X-Men, all back together. We'll find the Professor, wherever he got to, bring him home and get the school started up. You wait and see Hank, we'll figure this out.”

Alex couldn't help snorting at that, but it did make him smile. Taking a breath, he tried to force himself to let go of his anger at Hank. Not an easy proposition, especially since Alex had always been good at holding to anger in an effort to avoid other feelings. Honestly, he wanted to not be angry at Hank. It was obvious he'd been beating himself up over it and doing everything he could to try and find the Professor.

Perhaps a bit of distance would help with that. Everyone needed a new drink anyway. “I'm to go get the next round.” He said, leaving the table and quickly making his way to the bar. It had slowly begun to get more crowded the later it got, people coming in from work for their evening beer. At the bar Alex waited for the bartender to finish chatting with another customer.

The Professor, Charles, was missing. Had been for years, and they had no clue where to start looking for him. The police were out of the question, at this point they'd probably just assumed he'd run off to start a new life. Like there were many places Charles could get to without using his legs. No, Alex's gut said something worse had happened. Hank had looked as best he could, but Sean was right, it would be easier now that there were three of them to handle searching. The first thing to do though, was to go back to the mansion and search it, see if there was any over looked clue as to what happened.

Nodding his head Alex straightened when the bartender came over, quickly placing his order for two more beers and another Coke. He tapped his fingers on the bar as he waited, at least until a voice spoke up from next to him.

“Care to buy a girl a drink?” The voice made Alex stiffen, slowly turning until he was looking into the bright eyes and blonde hair of Raven. He hadn't seen that particular face in a long time. Even in Vietnam she'd been hiding or in her blue form.

“No, I don't. What are you doing here Raven?” He watched her wince a bit, eyes narrowing.

“I told you, that's not my name.” She replied, dropping the friendly act.

“Well that's a shame because that's the only name I have for you.” Alex picked up the three bottles that had been deposited in front of him, nodding to the bartender. He turned away, making his way back to the table. He could sense Raven following him, not that he had really expected to leave.

Sean was the only one there, long legs propped up on the table as he leaned the chair back. Alex just shook his head, setting the bottles down with a thump. “You're going to fall one of these days Sean.”

“Probably, but then it'll get you to laugh.” The red head replied, pulling his feet off and straightening up. He grabbed his beer, taking a drink before he noticed the new person that had sat down in the empty seat. “Raven? What the hell are you doing here?”

The scowl on her pretty face got fiercer, but she didn't correct Sean. Obviously Raven felt that starting an argument over what they called her was not going to be conducive to whatever it was she wanted from them. Instead, she leaned forward in her seat, staring at them intently. “I need your help.”

Nothing good could possibly come from those words. Especially given the type of activities Raven was involved in. Alex shared a look with Sean, which exactly mirrored his own thoughts. He was suddenly intensely glad that Hank wasn't at the table, and hoped he would stay wherever he was for a bit longer.

“What could possibly need our help with? Why are you even coming to us? I thought you had like, other teammates that you're supposed to be using for this kind of stuff now.” Sean leaned forward to match Raven, one hand gripping his bottle.

There was a flash of something across Raven's face. If Alex were trying to name it, he'd say it almost looked like grief. Instead she stared at the battered table for a minute before forcefully pulling herself together. When she looked up at them, her face was set as if it were carved from stone.

“They're dead. All of them except one. Captured and experimented on by Trask Industries. They were going to do the same to you before I got you out of Vietnam. I need to get Azazel out of the lab that they're holding him in, but I can't do it by myself.”

Alex sipped his beer, staring at Raven. “So you want us to help you break your friend out of whatever lab they've got him in?”

Raven actually shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Yes, I'd like your help with freeing Azazel, but first I need you to help me with something else.” She took a deep breath. “I need you to help me free Erik first.”

Alex snorted, setting his beer down and leaning forward. “Are you kidding me?” He spat the words out, staring at her. “You want us to help you break into the damned Pentagon and break Erik out. After all of the shit he's done?”

Fortunately Hank came back from the bathroom at that moment, stopping Raven before she could really work her way into what looked like a full blown rant. Alex could just imagine what it would be about. Hank's return though, left them with a thick air of tension. He leaned back against his chair, letting Sean and Raven fill Hank in. It was gratifying to know the two of them looked as stunned and annoyed as he was at the sheer gall to try and ask them to help break someone like Erik out of prison.

“You really think we'll help break him out? After what he did to Charles?” Hank's voice had descended into a growl, and Alex thought that maybe he was getting a little blue around the edges.

“That's not the point here.” Raven at least was smart enough not to try and make excuses for that. “The point is I need Erik's help to take down the lab and Trask. You are the only people I know that can help me. Everyone else...” She looked down, biting her lip. “Everyone else is dead.”

Alex wasn't sure if that was genuine grief in her face, or if it was just a ploy to get them to feel bad for her. Unfortunately for her, Alex had just gotten through multiple tours in Vietnam and had seen a lot of people die. His ability to feel sympathy for other people was at a pretty low point. Certainly not people like Raven. Taking another sip of his beer, Alex felt the wheels turning in his head. He didn't want to do anything that might help Erik, but this could help them in return.

“Alright Raven, we'll do it.” Alex's voice cut through the arguments, silencing all of them. He ignored the shocked and betrayed look Hank gave him and the speculative look Sean was giving. Instead he focused on Raven, and that happy and hopeful look on her face. “There's a condition though. You're agreeing to it or your naked ass can go and do it alone.” He leaned forward. “After we break Erik and your friend out, you're going to help us find the Professor.”

There was a certain grim satisfaction in watching Raven's face completely fall as she took in his words. “What happened to Charles? Hank did something happen?”

Hank was staring at the bar, hand gripping his empty Coke tightly. “He disappeared, almost seven years ago. No note, nothing. I haven't been able to turn up anything on his location. We don't what happened to him, but we're going to find him.” Hank looked up, meeting Raven's eyes for the first time, his own bleeding to yellow. “Not that it matters to you.”

There came a gusty sigh and suddenly Sean was leaning forward, breaking the staring contest. “Look, before things get even more out of hand, just tell us if you agree Raven. We'll help you free Erik and Azazel, if you then help us find the Professor. Its a simple answer, yes or no.”

“Yes.” Raven didn't hesitate, though she definitely looked a little pale. Alex had to give her credit though, she pulled herself together quickly. “So how are we going to do this?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some angry tension between them all, and next week we get Erik's jail break. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos. You guys validate my existence and make it better. 
> 
> This weeks nursery rhyme is Girls and Boys Come Out And Play.


	5. Magneto, Lift the Latch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prison Break! I hope you like how I worked it without including Quicksilver.

_Magneto, lift the latch_

_Sit in your prison and watch_

_Take a cup, and drink it up_

_Then call your mutants in._

 

Break into the Pentagon, no sweat. Break out a man suspected of killing a U.S. President, piece of cake. Get back out with said person and not be noticed, its a snap. Could they bring him the moon as well, since obviously everyone besides Sean was in fairyland? Despite the fact that he was sure this was the craziest plan ever come up with, here he was, pulling on an ill fitting guard uniform.

The plan seemed simple, but Sean felt he could be forgiven for being skeptical about it. After all he was going to be the one front and center if anything went wrong, since he was the main piece of it. They'd spent two days getting all the information they could on Erik's prison, and Alex had come out with a fairly solid plan.

Sean would disguise himself as a guard, go down to deliver Erik's meal, and break the glass with his sonic scream. Then he would get Erik back to the elevator where Raven and Alex would be waiting. Hank in the meantime would be taking the tour, using one of his electrical doodads to cause trouble with the cameras and create enough chaos to cover their escape.

Raven had tried to argue that she was the one who should go down, that she was best suited to disguise herself. To that Alex had asked how exactly she planned to break the glass that was keeping Erik in. There hadn't been any response, so Alex had smirked and gone back to planning his latest scheme.

They had sent Raven in the day before to find out what the routine for Erik was. Evidently his meals were put on a plastic tray and taken down to his cell. Sean took a deep breath, moving into the kitchen. He ignored all of the cooks moving about, trying to act like he'd done this before. He made his way to the one that would have Erik's tray, taking it from him with a nod. Then he went over to the elevator, nodding to the guard who turned the key to the elevator. Sean glanced at the guard before the door shut, taking in the quick wink and flash of yellow eyes. That let him know Raven was in position.

Sean took a deep breath, going over the next part several times. When the doors opened, he slowly stepped out, mentally taking in the number of guards and the acoustics of the hallway. It was another strange side-effect of his mutation, he could look at almost any space and tell you how acoustically sound it was. It helped him direct his power to greater advantage, but currently he was in a bright, white box of a hall that had really horrible acoustics. Nothing he couldn't work around naturally, but it wasn't going to make his job any easier.

When he reached the end of the hallway, he saw there was a rotating door with a guard on the other side. A slight complication, but nothing he couldn't deal with. As the door rotated open, he took a deep breath, turned and let out a sonic scream that was outside the range of human hearing, well normal human hearing. It had the lovely effect of scrambling the fluid in the inner ear and causing unconsciousness. It also tended to drive dogs crazy. All of the guards in the hallway fell down with a cascading thud. He'd hit just the right timing with his scream, it had managed to echo to the other guard, not enough to knock him out but at least disorient him. Which made it easier for Sean to slip inside and knock him out.

Finding the mechanism to open the inner door was pretty easy too. Evidently all of the fancy switches were only for the upper levels and not the actual prison level. The only question was, would it stay open long enough for him to get down another hallway before it closed.

Walking into the room, Sean tried not to flinch as the door closed behind him. If all things were going according to plan, the sprinklers should be going off upstairs and Alex would be getting ready to come down in the elevator. So he had something around five to ten minutes to take care of this.

Walking over to the glass windows and seeing Erik was surprising. He hadn't seen the man since the beach in Cuba, well not directly at least. The man had barely changed, his hair was styled slight different but other than that, he hadn't aged. Then again, being in a cushy prison without anything to do probably did wonders for the skin.

Sean slipped the tray into the hole, stepping back and watching as it hit the small pallet Erik was resting on. There was a note on the inside of the tray that Raven had written. She had insisted on writing it when the one's they came up with were too vulgar. ' **Watch the glass** '. Erik read it then looked up, something indefinable on his face, which quickly became rigid and cold when Sean stepped forward.

Immediately Erik covered his ears and Sean smirked before taking a deep breath. The glass was pretty easy to break really, it wasn't even that thick. It shattered into pieces, raining down on Erik who had moved to cover his head. Immediately alarms started blaring around them, the heavy door swinging shut with a ominous boom. Once the glass stopped falling, Erik quickly pulled himself out, staring at the closed door.

“In thirty seconds those doors will open and twenty guards will be here to shoot us.”

“Not quite that many, you're not that dangerous Erik.” Sean walked over, standing next to him and watching the door. “Besides, I've got it covered. All you have to do, asshole, is just behave.” He pulled out the plastic pistol that had been issued with the uniform and leveled it at Erik's head. Sean's hand perfectly steady.

*-*-*-*

Erik had often imagined getting out of here, of some kind of rescue attempt that would prove successful. Never had imagined his rescue would come at the hands of Banshee. A Banshee that was older than he remembered, hair much shorted but still full of unruly curls. He was harder too, judging by the way he held himself and especially how he handled that gun. There was no hesitation in how he held it, or how level he kept it.

“I never thought you would be the one to break me out.”

“Yeah, wasn't exactly my plan. But we'll get into that later, the door should be opening soon.” Banshee stepped forward until they were facing each other. “Before then though, there's something I need to do first.” It was the only warning Erik got before Banshee punched him square in the jaw. “That was for Cuba.”

The hit sent Erik stumbling back a few steps. He reached up to rub his cheek, looking at Banshee with new appreciation. “Nice punch.” Erik straightened himself up, meeting his former students eyes.

“Yeah, had a lot of practice punching people now.” The door began to slide open, and Banshee turned to look at it. The gun though, never wavered. “Right on time.”

Erik looked over at the door, feeling his eyes widen when Havok stepped inside, also dressed in a guard's uniform. Like Banshee, he was older, harder around the edges. “Let's go, we're on a schedule.”

He turned and walked out ahead of them, Banshee taking up the rear and prodding Erik forward with the gun. The way the two of them moved, the way they held themselves spoke to Erik of military training. They walked like they were used to being in war zones, places where danger was always around the corner and likely to come out of no where.

The question of why the guards hadn't showed up quickly became clear when he saw the hallway. All of them were on the ground, unconscious. Some of them had obviously been moved to clear a path, but most were left where they had fallen.

“What happened to them?” Erik wasn't sad to see them all in this state, he was mostly curious.

“They're just unconscious. Unlike you Erik, we don't exactly like killing.” Alex's voice was full of venom when he spoke, sharp enough that Erik was surprised it wasn't cutting the very air around them.

There was no further conversation until they were in the elevator and heading up. Banshee had finally lowered the gun, pushing it back into his holster. He then reached into another pocket and fished out a pair of earplugs, which he held out. “You'll need these, better put them in now.”

“I'm touched that you're concerned for my hearing.” Erik said, picking them up. He stared at them for a moment before curling his fingers over them. “Wouldn't have thought you cared.”

“We don't, but it'll be harder to get out if you're knocked out or disoriented.” Alex said, turning to glare at Erik again. His fist was clenched at his side, knuckles white with strain.

“Are you going to punch me too? Banshee already took a crack, quite a nice right hook actually.” Erik smiled a bit, taking in Havok's tightened jaw. The boy was showing admirable restraint, another sign of how much he had grown.

“I'm saving that for later. Not the kind of thing that should be done in an elevator.” Havok said, drawing himself up and putting his own ear plugs in. “We're almost there, better get ready.”

Erik quickly put his own earplugs in, which succeeded in muffling all of the sound around him. With his hearing gone, all he had left were his eyes, so he decided to observe his former students. They definitely moved like they were familiar with each other, though they seemed to stand a bit closer than they was necessary. That was as far as his observations got before the doors were open.

What greeted them was a kitchen in disarray, sprinklers going at full force making it seemed like they'd walked into a monsoon. They were greeted by only one guard though, who was watching the doors intently. As soon as he saw them, he let out a breath.

“Took your time with it.” The muffled voice that came out was Mystique's, and there was a flash of yellow eyes as they fixed on him. “Erik...”

He could feel the tension between them immediately ratchet up. The air was thick with all of the things that had been left unsaid the last time they had seen each other. There were so much that had happened in the years since that he wanted to know. Thing that he should, and wanted, to clear up with her. Now though was not the time for that.

“We need to get going Raven, before more guards show up.” Alex's voice came through the earplugs distorted, but he immediately began moving through the kitchen towards and exit. Everyone else fell in line with him, quick stepping towards the exit. Fortunately they didn't run into any more guards, and soon they were outside and in a rather nondescript black car.

Mystique had shifted to her blonde disguise, which allowed them to blend in better. Havok and Banshee had both changed out of their uniforms, dumping them in the trunk and pulling on more casual clothes.

“Don't worry Erik, we've got clothes waiting for you at the plane.” Mystique said, getting into the back of the car with him. “There just wasn't enough room to put everything in the car.”

“Yeah, and the rest of us have no desire to see you naked.” Banshee's voice cut through the air. “Scoot over Erik, I'm going to be back here with you.”

He didn't wait for any kind of movement, just climbed in and leaving Erik no choice but to move to the middle of the seat. It wasn't comfortable, Erik was really far too tall to be able to fit in the middle seat. Havok had climbed in the driver seat, but he made no more to start the car or drive away. Instead he sat there, tapping his fingers absently on the steering wheel.

“I'd hate to sound ungrateful, but shouldn't we be moving? Hanging around like this seems like it would be inviting someone to find us.”

“We'll leave when Hank gets here.” Alex said, scanning the parking lot. “Unlike some people, we don't leave others behind.”

Erik knew better than to react to that, to try and argue about it. Instead he kept quiet enjoyimg the feeling of being out of that jail cell. Slowly he reached out with his powers, feeling the metal in the car, then the metal in the other cars. It felt wonderful, like being in a cramped position for so long and finally having an opportunity to stretch.

He had gotten out to the point of feeling all of the cars in the parking area when Hank finally showed up. The young mutant was walking very quickly across the parking lot, holding something in his pocket as he went. He gave them all a nod as he climbed in, pulling the door shut. Alex immediately started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot.

Silence reigned on the way to the airport, not even Banshee trying to make conversation. There was more that wanted to be said, Erik could feel it, but obviously everyone was waiting until they reached the plane and privacy. As soon as he saw the plane, Erik had no doubt about who at least had been supporting his escape attempt.

If the sheer luxury of it hadn't been enough of a tip off, the large stylized X on the tail was a certain giveaway. Charles was here. Charles, the man he hadn't seen in ten years, whom he had left bleeding in Cuba. The man that continued to mean more to Erik than he could properly articulate.

“Come on Erik, we've got clothes in the plane for you.” Mystique said, flashing him a small smile. “I'll tell you what's been happened once we're inside.”

Erik was about to go up the stairs before he felt a strong hand grab his shoulder, pulling him back. “Not so fast Erik, there's one final thing we need to take care of.” Havok's voice was hard, and Erik could admit to being slightly impressed that the blonde was able to manhandle him the way he did. Havok glanced over at Banshee and Hank, who were standing behind him. “It's alright if I do it here right?”

“Just don't hit the plane.” Hank said, turning and going to the cockpit. “I need to start the flight checks.”

“What's going on Havok?” Erik already had a good idea about the answer, bracing himself for another punch.

Havok didn't respond, at least not with words. Instead he brought his fist up, only instead of a punch, Erik was hit with a concentrated blast of energy that knocked him at least a dozen yards back and left him dazed on the ground. Erik just managed to focus on Alex as he walked over, leaning over him. “That was for the Professor, for Cuba.” Alex spat, before grabbing the straps of Erik's prison uniform and hauling him up, practically dragging him across the tarmac and into the plane.

Mystique was glaring at Havok when they entered the cabin, her arms crossed over her chest. “Was that really necessary Alex?” She moved over, slipping an arm around Erik to help him.

“Yes, it was. Don't expect me to apologize for it either.” Alex's voice was completely deadpan as he spoke, relinquishing Erik over to Raven's hold. “I've waited a lot of years to do that.”

“Satisfying isn't it?” Banshee said, coming up next to Alex. “I punched him down in the prison, felt kind of like Christmas.” The grin was audible in his voice, and Erik realized he should probably be upset that people seemed to be taking a lot of pleasure in hitting him. The only reason he wasn't upset was because he, more than anyone, understood the need for a little revenge. He certainly owed them that at least this much.

“Should I expect Hank to have the next shot?” Erik asked, taking in the lavish interior of the plane. Exactly what he'd come to expect from Charles.

“Hank hasn't said anything about wanting to hit you, but its hard to tell.” Raven picked up a pile of clothing, holding it out to him. “Here, you should get changed. There's a lot you need to know.”

Erik took the clothing, slipping to the back where the bathroom was. It felt wonderful, to get out of that white uniform and into something a bit nicer. He stepped out once he had everything on, buttoning up the shirt as he went. Mystique had taken a seat at the small table, already back to her natural blue form, while Banshee was sprawled over the sofa. He could see Havok and Beast in the cockpit running checks on the plane. There was still no sign of Charles though.

“Where's Charles?” The question came out before he could stop himself, but he noticed that Mystique and Banshee both instantly tensed.

“Take a seat Erik.” Mystique's voice was quiet when she spoke. “That's part of what I need to tell you about.” She waited until he had sat down and was looking at her before she spoke. “We need your help Erik. Azazel is alive, he's being held by Trask Industries in a lab of some kind outside of Pittsburg. I need your help to get him and any others out.”

Further conversation was temporarily halted while they took off. Once the plane was level, Erik spoke. “What about them then?” He gestured to where Banshee was sitting, not even trying to act like he wasn't listening.

“We'll need their help too. There's no telling what kind of security Trask has there.”

“So they just agreed to help you?” Erik didn't quite believe it was that simple.

“We worked out an agreement when I came to them. They would help me free you and Azazel and in return...”

“In return, you're going to help us find the Professor.” Havok said, walking out from the cockpit. He dropped down next to Banshee, the two of them sitting closer than would normally be expected. Erik fleetingly wondered if there was more there than they were telling.

Most of his attention though was caught by Alex's actual words. “What happened to Charles? Why do you need to find him?”

“Charles is missing Erik.” Mystique's voice was quiet, and he could pick up the trace of remorse in it. “According to Hank he disappeared almost seven years ago. He hasn't been able to find any trace of him.”

“Missing?” The words were only barely penetrating Erik's mind, but almost immediately he could fee a familiar rush of anger moving through him. “How can he be missing?” He turned on the two young men, glaring at them. “You were supposed to take care of him! Where the hell were you all?! How could you leave him alone like that?!”

Havok's hands tightened together, brown eyes leveling a truly lethal glare at Erik. However it ended up being Banshee that spoke. “I realize you spent ten years in prison and probably didn't get a lot of news, but there was this little thing called Vietnam going on. We got drafted, only just got out actually, so we didn't really have a choice about leaving.” He leaned forward, not backing down like he would have when he was younger. “The Professor told Hank to leave so he could avoid being drafted. Unless you just wanted Hank to end up as someone's experiment. Because nothing says mutant like big, furry and blue.” Banshee's eyes took on a distant look. “Its the perfect way to get assigned to special divisions.”

Erik took a breath, working to master his breathing before he spoke again. At least now he knew why both of them felt like they'd had military training. The idea of them being over in a war zone, it didn't seem right. They shouldn't have been stuck fighting some human war. Not when it meant Charles had been left on his own.

He used the silence to observe Havok and Banshee, hoping they would provide a distraction. As he'd noticed before, they were definitely sitting much closer than normal. That could be expected if they'd spent a lot of time in each other's company, which they obviously had, but there was more to it. Havok kept playing with his fingers, tapping them together or squeezing them into a fist and then shaking it out. Erik had never figured Havok as being the type to develop a nervous tick.

“Stop that Alex. You're getting as bad as Ink was with the hands thing.” Banshee said, his voice making it sound like this was an old argument. He reached out, grabbing one of Alex's hands in his and pulling it down between them. “Don't know how exactly you think you're going to get a cute redhead with twitches like that.”

Havok snorted, turning to look at Banshee. “I'm not worried about that, red heads are surprisingly easy to get a hold of. Don't know how exactly you're going to find a nice blonde. Especially with pick up lines as bad as yours.”

Banshee snorted, letting out a small laugh. “I don't know, maybe they'll find it charming. I got some new ones to try out now.”

“I feel bad for their intended victim already.” But Havok was smiling, a small honest smile and he hadn't made any move to free his hand from Banshee.

After that, the plane lapsed into silence, all of them occupied with their own thoughts. Erik found his mind wandering to Charles, to the man he had missed and thought of every day he had been gone. The idea that Charles had been missing for much of that time, the idea of what might have happened to him made Erik's blood run cold.

Slowly he felt his mind sharpen and narrow, taking on the kind of focus that he hadn't felt since he had been hunting for Shaw. He would free Azazel and any of their mutant brothers and sisters that Trask was holding. Then they would find Charles, make sure he was safe back at his mansion with Beast, Banshee and Havok. Then, then he was going to hunt down this Trask and make him pay for what he had done.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends the everyone punch Magneto chapter! Or almost everyone. And the next chapter is one of my favorites, even if my muse has been flagging of late. 
> 
> Feedback is lovely and welcome, sorry this chapter was a bit late. Also feel free to stalk me on tumblr. http://girlinageekworld.tumblr.com/


	6. I Hear Them Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so here is the big chapter. Or at least a very big chapter. This is where all of the myriad tags and warning start coming into play. The end of this is not nice, you are being warned. Also the Russian used it entirely researched by me so if there is anything wrong kindly let me know.

_I hear them cry,_

“ _The X-Men come, the X-Men Come!”_

_So Doctor quick,_

_the lab to toss, the lab to toss._

 

After landing in Pittsburg, they stayed in the plane to try and plan what their next move would be. They opted against getting a hotel room, because after they freed Azazel, they were going to need to make a quick escape. Mystique had brought all of the information she said she could find from Trask's office on the Pittsburg facility. It wasn't much, just a layout of the building and the location. Even that was pretty sparse, all it showed was the above ground areas and certainly nothing that looked like it would be lab space.

Still, it was better than nothing, and Erik didn't believe in wasting time trying to get a better idea of the layout. Fortunately for him, Alex, Sean and Mystique agreed, over ruling Hank's desire for a little more caution. Waiting too long would give them time to reinforce the lab once word of his escape got out. They still needed to plan though on how they were going to get in. Which ultimately became a debate between stealth and a full frontal assault.

“We need to make a statement with this. Let Trask and those like them know that they can't use mutants as lab rats and expect not to receive retribution!” Erik snarled, the plane giving an ominous creak form the flare of his powers.

“Sending a message is all well and good Erik, but we really don't need to be dealing with the Pittsburg police, on top of whatever security Trask Industries already has in place.” Alex was trying to sound reasonable, but he was obviously gritting his teeth. “We don't know how much security we'll have to deal with, let alone how many mutants are in the facility or what state they're in. If we have to carry injured people out, the last thing we need is to be dodging police. You can have your revenge later.”

Erik wanted to argue, but Mystique met his eyes and gave a slight shake of her head. If there was one thing he had learned to value about her in their time together, it was her pragmatism. What Alex was saying made sense, he just didn't want to leave without sending some kind of warning to Trask. Erik had looked over Azazel's file, taking in the Russian's changed appearance. The things they had done to him were horrible, and Erik found himself fighting hard to maintain his control. The man who did this was going to pay dearly, Erik would see to that personally.

“Well then Havok, what did you have in mind then for your more 'subtle' approach?” He laced his voice with challenge.

Alex studied the diagrams, not rising to the bait. “We're going to go in the front door.” He said simply. “Or rather, Raven will go in the front door, and we'll follow her.” He pointed to the entrance. “Here, its the only entry into the building itself, if we go in at night the personnel and security should be light. Raven disguises herself, gets in the door and disables the guards at the front. Once that's done, we follow her in.”

“And how did you plan for us to get out?” Mystique asked, much calmer than Erik would have been.

“Well, that's when we'll make our big exit and Erik can send his message. These schematics don't say what the walls are made of. If it's got metal, Erik can bring the whole place down around their head. If its just brick and mortar...” He glanced over at Banshee. “Sean can get us out.”

There came a snort from the red head. “Alex, you know I can't really scream loud enough to shatter bricks.”

“No, but I know you can his the frequency that destroys the mortar between them. If that's not an option, I can always blow a whole in the walls, I'd just rather make that the last resort.” Havok looked up, stray blonde hairs falling in his eyes. “Anyone have any objections?”

Seeing Havok like this, naturally taking the role of a leader, it was amazing. Certainly a far cry from the sullen youth that Charles and Erik had found in solitary confinement. Even farther from the man who had been scared of the damage his powers could do. As irrational as it was, Erik felt a swell of pride looking at Havok, taking in the man that he had helped shape, even if it was only briefly that he'd had a part in it.

“Are we all going in? Or should someone stay out to secure our escape?” Hank asked, looking at them warily from behind his glasses. He didn't look comfortable with the idea of going in.

Havok looked at his friend, nodding slowly. “We'll need your help most of all Hank. This is a lab, who knows what they've got in there. I need my brains in there to help us figure out what's going on. Also, we're going to need you big and blue, Beast.” Hank huffed a bit, but a small smile was curving his lips, the first one Erik could remember seeing this whole time.

This time instead of a car they rented a van, since they weren't sure what shape Azazel and any others would be in when they broke them out. The lab was in an industrial area of the city, the Trask Industries logo emblazoned on the front of the building. It was a low brick warehouse, nothing to make it stand out from it's neighbors. Most people probably thought that's all it was, and ignored that the security was rather excessive for a simple warehouse.

The waiting was the hardest part, especially because none of them felt much like talking. The few attempts at conversation had fallen flat or led to arguments. So they all sat in silence, each one lost to their own thoughts. Erik didn't mind the silence, he had grown rather used to it in the last ten years. He attempted to do what he had done in prison, meditating to help calm himself. However this time he couldn't seem to properly center himself.

Too many thoughts were crowding in his head. He wondered what they would find in there, what state Azazel would be in. The teleporter was tough, Erik had no doubt that he would be able to come back from what had been done to him. He knew Azazel wouldn't be the only mutant there,. The file had repeatedly referenced someone called 'Mutant X'.

The thought of that alone made him angry. They didn't even give them the dignity of a name, just designations. Not even code names, just labels like they were specimens in a jar. Mutant A, Mutant X, how many more had their names taken from them by Trask Industries? The whole setup brought to mind uncomfortable memories of the Nazi camps, the inhumane things that had been done. Memories of Shaw and his experiments to make him stronger. It would never end, not as long as humans continued to be a threat to his people.

Erik had already lived through watching the decimation of his people once, he had vowed to never see it happen again. The Nazi's had taken his family, killed millions of his people before, he could see the same thing happening to mutants. That things like this had already started, that humans had begun already... When the Nazis had come Erik had been a boy, powerless, now he was a man and he had the power to rival armies. This time he would fight back.

When the time finally comes for them to make their move, the plan went off fairly smoothly. Mystique transformed into one of the guards they had seen leave earlier, making her way to the door. The silence while they waited was tense. If this part didn't go properly, it would make everything more complicated. Thankfully ten minutes later, Mystique's voice came through the radio.

“All clear, Guards are down and I have access to the labs. Move out.”

With that they all climbed out of the van, walking swiftly to the entrance. With the exception of Beast, they were all dressed in black, attempting to blend in. With Beast blending in was pretty much impossible, but he'd gone with the same black attire as the rest.

Mystique was ever herself and completely naked and blue when she met them. She was surrounded by five guards, all knocked out on the ground. “Let's go.” She moved towards an elevator door, transforming her hand and pressing her thumb to the scanner. The elevator arrived with a ding a minute later.

They all piled inside, the fit a little cozy but not uncomfortable. When the elevator doors opened again, they were in a new world. It was the lab they hadn't been on the schematics. The entire place was white, and for a moment Erik thought he was back underneath the Pentagon, headed towards his cell. The moment passed though when Sean knocked his shoulder walking past.

“Think we ought to split up?” He asked, looking around. “How big is this place anyway?”

“Big enough.” Alex said. “Me and Banshee will go this way.” He gestured down one of the hallways. “Erik and Raven can take the next hallway. Beast, you going to be ok on your own?” Hank gave a nod, moving down the next corridor.

Erik followed Mystique, each of them checking the rooms as they passed. Whenever a door was locked, Erik pulled it apart with his powers. It was disappointing in a way. None of the rooms held mutants desperate for escape, just lots of lab equipment and examination rooms. They'd gone all the way down the hall and turned the corner when they finally came to a different type of door. This one was more heavily reinforced than the others, Erik could feel the increased metal in it, calling to him.

He reached out for the metal, pulling the entire door off its hinges, flinging it back into the hallway. Stepping inside, Erik cringed at the sight that met him. The room was cramped, scientific equipment to one side, a narrow bed wedged in a corner opposite a toilet and sink. Azazel was sitting on the bed, one arm shackled to the wall to keep him from teleporting.

Azazel was hunched over, his black hair hanging limply around his face. His beard was bushy, unkempt which emphasized the sunken aspect of his face. His eyes were hollow, and the clothes they had him in hung off of his frame. He slowly turned towards them, pale eyes blinking slowly.

“ _Xozj_ _á_ _in_ ?” The question was halting, his voice rougher than Erik remembered. Azazel's gaze slid over to Mystique, widening a bit. “ _ Rybka? _ ” He stared at them like he was convincing himself they were real.

“We've come to get you Azazel.” Erik lifted his hand, severing the chain that had help the other mutant to the wall. He removed it entirely, twisting it until it was just a pile of slag. Azazel looked at it, rubbing his wrist lightly, as if he was reassuring himself that it was truly gone. Erik wanted nothing more than to melt the entire place down, but that would have to wait. “Are there any others here?”

Azazel nodded, blinking quickly. “ _ Solnyshko _ .” He said, his voice growing stronger now. It seemed he had finally decided it was really happening. He moved around them quickly, walking instead of teleporting like he would have before. Erik figured it was because of his weakened state, given that he stumbled a few times as he went. “We have to get  _ Solnyshko _ out of here.”

“Where are they?” Mystique asked, reaching out to steady him when he stumbled into the wall. Her yellow eyes were wide with concern. Underneath that, Erik could see a hint of anger at what Azazel had been reduced to.

“Follow me, is not far.” Azazel seemed to be regaining his strength, because once he straightened up, he bolted down the hallway. Finally he paused in front of a large door. He yanked at the handle, trying desperately to force the door open.

Erik lifted his hand, undoing the lock with a flick of his fingers. As soon as he heard the click, Azazel flung the door opening, running inside. Mystique looked over at Erik, and he could see in her eyes the same question he had. Whoever this person was, they were obviously very important to Azazel. When Erik stepped into the room, he finally understood why Azazel was so desperate to reach them.

“Mein Gott...” Erik can hear Mystique's gasp next to him. He imagined she had her hands pressed to her mouth, just like she had in Cuba. Because...

Because there in front of them was Charles. Only it looked nothing like the Charles Xavier that Erik remembered, that bright eyed, optimistic young man. A man's whose hopes and faith for the future only made him more beautiful. Who had helped Erik find the true extent of his powers, of his potential. The person is front of him was not the friend he'd been thinking of and missing desperately for ten lonely years.

The Charles in front of him was gaunt, strapped into a metal chair. There was an IV in one thin arm, some kind of clear fluid being pumped into him. His hair was long and shaggy, ragged in patches where they had shaved off locks at random to attach wires and electrodes. Some of it had grown back over the electrodes in fact. His face was obscured by a scruffy unkempt beard. His eyes were still that beautiful, electric blue, but where they used to sparkle with life, with emotion, now they just stared, completely empty. The dark rings under Charles' eyes, made it look as if he hadn't slept in years.

The only article of clothing he wore was a flimsy hospital gown. Erik could just make out the long tube of a catheter extending from under the gown to a bag hanging to one side. A bin was under the chair and with that the smell suddenly hit him. The air was rank with the smell of urine, feces and unwashed human. He hadn't smelled that in years and hoped to never run into again.

Erik couldn't bring himself to move, struck dumb by the sight. Azazel though, must be more used to it because he doesn't even pause. He's moved forward, speaking softly to Charles as he crouches in front of him. Charles didn't respond at all, just continued to stare blankly ahead as Azazel carefully removed the IV from his arm. “It's ok _Solnyshko_. We're getting out of here now.” He glanced back over at them, not commenting on the way they both just stood there. “Are there others with you? I need someone to disconnect him from the machine.”

It was at that point that Erik saw the machine. It was large and bulky, taking up half of the space in the room, wires going everywhere. A sickening number of those wires seemed to be attached to Charles' head. Erik wanted to rip them off, to crush the entire machine into scrap. The only thing holding him back was the fact that he had no idea what that would do to Charles. He can't risk causing even more damage. Instead he turned to Mystique, putting his hands on her shoulders and gently turning her away from Charles.

“Mystique. Mystique!” She wasn't responding, her breath coming too quickly. “Raven... you need to calm down.” Erik said the words gently this time, placing a hand on her cheek. “You need to go get Hank and the others. We need Hank to disconnect Charles from that machine so we can get him out of here. Can you do that?” He waited until she nodded before he gently nudged her out of the room.

Once she started walking away, Erik stepped more fully into the room, his shoes echoing slightly. Looking up he saw that the ceiling was domed with panels, a set up that reminded him vaguely of something, but he was too distracted to remember clearly what it was. Instead he turned his attention back to Charles, who still hadn't reacted to the presence of either Erik or Azazel.

“Charles...” Erik stared down at him, swallowing thickly as he tried to speak. “Charles, its Erik.” He crouched in front of him, but there was nothing. Those blue eyes just stared through him, not even a muscle twitching. “What's wrong with him Azazel?”

Azazel glanced over from where he'd been grabbing a blanket. “Don't worry if he doesn't respond. He doesn't always respond very well, especially after they run tests with the Cyberno.” Azazel moved over, carefully attempting to lift Charles while fumbling with the blanket.

Erik reacted instantly, shifting Azazel out of the way and taking Charle's weight into his arms. Charles felt fragile in his hold, as if he could break apart at the slightest bit of rough handling. Carefully he lifted Charles up, looking down at his old friend. He caught a glimpse of sores running down Charles legs, and a few on his arms. They were quickly hidden by the blanket Azazel wrapped around Charles, keeping up a steady stream of murmured Russian.

“Professor?!” The sound of Hank's voice was a shock, and Erik turned to look at him. Charles hadn't reacted to the sound of Hank's voice, but Hank looked absolutely devastated. It was a look mirrored by Sean and Alex, who stood behind him in the doorway, taking in the ravaged body of their mentor. “What happened...?” It was a question for which there were no definitive answers, but the possible answers were numerous and heart breaking.

Erik swallowed, forcing himself to take charge. They couldn't afford to give into their grief, not right now. “Hank! They've got hooked up to some kind of machine, we need you to disconnect him from it.”

There was a moment when the blue mutant just stood there and blinked, before shaking himself. He moved around them, heading over to the giant machine that the wires attached to Charles' head were connected to. Erik watched him move around the machine, his scowl growing fiercer as he worked on it.

“Was there... were there any others?” Erik forced the words out, carefully setting Charles down on the seat, which he sickeningly realized had a hole in the seat that the bucket sat underneath. He felt his rage beginning to spike, rolling through him. The metal in the ceiling creaked as his powers escaped his control. He fought ruthlessly to get them under control, breathing heavily.

“We didn't find any other mutants.” Sean's voice was quiet, eyes fixed on the professor. “Some lab personnel which we locked in a room, but that was it.”

Azazel looked up at that, frowning slightly. “Where did you put them?” He had been standing next to Charles, but now he took a step forward, his tail lashing behind him.

“Next hallway over, one of the larger labs.” Alex responded, looking at Azazel. “Was there someone you wanted?”

“Yes. Doctor Cornelius, was he there?” Azazel asked, hands clenched at his sides. At Sean's nod, he turned around, picking up a scalpel that had been set nearby. “I'll return.” He said, then he disappeared in his usual flash of red smoke before anyone could ask any questions.

Raven came over, taking Azazel's place. “Charles. Charles its me, its Raven.” Her voice was wavering as she spoke, trying like Erik had to get some kind of response. The fact that that he didn't respond didn't deter her. Instead she shifted into the blonde form that she used to wear, staring at him imploringly. “Charles, please say something.” Only more blankness met her pleas.

“I've managed to get the machine turned off.” Hank said, his voice hard and too calm. “We can remove the electrodes. We have to be gentle, who knows how long he's had them attached.” He walked over, carefully examining Charles. He gently grasped one and began to pull it off. It didn't remove easily, and when it did it was plain to see it had taken skin with it, a slight trickle of blood running down Charles' scalp.

Erik watched as Hank and Raven worked at the electrodes, but found he had to look away after the first few, bile rising in his throat. He wasn't alone in that, Alex and Sean were standing together off to the side, pointedly not looking over at Charles. They weren't talking, but they were standing very close, probably taking what comfort they could from the other being there.

When the last electrode was removed, Azazel came walking in, dragging behind him a man. He'd been gagged wish a wad of gauze, his hands bound behind him. Azazel tossed him onto the ground, looking over at them. “He comes with us.” His voice didn't leave any room for argument. “Is _Solnyshko_ free of that machine?”

Mystique nodded, stepping back so that Hank could pick Charles up. He still hadn't reacted to anything that had happened. Not even when they removed the electrodes from his scalp, which was now causing blood to ooze from a dozen places on his head. He just laid there, his head having lolled onto Hank's shoulder rather than holding itself up.

“We're ready, can you teleport us out of here?” Hank asked, staring at Azazel.

“Nyet, I don't have enough strength to teleport anyone other than myself. Even then I can't go very far.” He moved towards the door. “Guards will be coming soon.”

Erik nodded, waiting for everyone to exit before he stepped out. Sean and Alex had picked up the Doctor, supporting his weight between them. Once he was out of the room he turned to stare into the room where his friend had been suffering. He unleashed all of the rage he'd been holding back, listening with satisfaction as the metal in the room screeched and broke. The entire room seemed to cave in on itself, and that hateful machine was at the center of the implosion.

When he turned around, it was to see that everyone had waited, watching as he destroyed the place. Silence followed once it was done, until Alex spoke. “Erik, when we're out of here, we're bringing this whole place down.” His voice was remorseless.

They managed to make it back to the elevator without any further incident. No guards came out to try and stop them. Erik should have known it was too easy, yet like everyone else he was distracted with worry over Charles. The only one who didn't seem preoccupied with the telepath was Azazel. He didn't act like there was anything unusual about Charles' condition. It made Erik wonder just how long Charles had been like this. The potential answer made him feel sick.

The easy escape he'd been hoping for swiftly ended when the elevator opened and they were met by over a dozen armed guards, all pointing guns at them. Erik tried to reach out, to feel the metal of the guns, but there was nothing. They had the same types of guns the guards at the Pentagon had, plastic all the way through.

“Stay where you are!” One of them shouted at them. “We're taking you into custody!”

“What are we going to do?” Mystique whispered, her eyes moving over all of the assembled people.

Erik had no idea what to do. There was no metal that he could use to stop that many people. Alex couldn't stop that many and neither could Sean, not without moving into the open. “I don't know.”

“We're giving you to the count of five to get on the ground and surrender yourself or we will use deadly force!”

Panic was starting to circulate through them, leaving a bitter taste on the back of Erik's tongue. He wasn't going to let them get them, he had to protect them this time. He just didn't know how.

“ _Kr_ _â_ _lj_. _Kr_ _â_ _lj_! We need you _Kr_ _â_ _lj_!” Azazel's voice held an edge of pleading in it. Erik turned to see who he was talking to, surprised to find him standing next to Hank, all of his attention focused on Charles. Charles' whose blank blue eyes had slowly focused on the Russian. “ _Kr_ _â_ _lj_ , all fall down.”

Charles lifted his head, a sudden tension sweeping through him and then out into the elevator and the room beyond it. All of the guards suddenly straightened up, their guns dropping to their side as they stared ahead. Slowly Charles lifted a shaking hand up, pressing three fingers against his temple. Erik thought he was focusing for his telepathy, but he quickly realized it was something else when all of the guards mimicked the motion, raising their guns and pressing the barrels against their temples.

Slowly, Charles curled one finger inward. “All...”

“Charles...” Erik was suddenly terrified of what he was seeing, of what he knew was going to happen. “Don't do this old friend.”

“Fall...” A second finger curling inward, the sound of a dozen guns cocking behind them.

“Charles please!” Raven was begging, her eyes widening in horror.

“Professor stop it!” The boys were speaking now, but it still seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“Down.” The final finger curled inward, and there was the sharp crack of a dozen guns going off, followed by the wet, meaty sound of bodies falling to the ground.

Slowly, unwillingly, Erik turned around, taking in the bodies. Blood, bone and brain matter decorated the entire lobby. It was a sight that Erik knew would haunt him for years to come. He had no doubt that the guards probably deserved to die, but to do it like this... It wasn't something Charles did, he shouldn't have been able to do it.

“Azazel...” Charles spoke again, his eyes slowly loosing focus. “There were fifteen of them.” He said softly, his voice sounding weak and remorseful as he spoke.

“I know _Kr_ _â_ _lj_ , it will be ok.” Azazel pressed a hand to Charles' cheek before he pulled it back and addressed his next words to Hank. “You're going to need hold him tightly.”

“Why?” Hank's voice was a breathless croak, even as he moved to follow the instructions.

“Because he is going to have a seizure very soon.” Azazel said quietly. “And its going to last for about fifteen minutes.”

As soon as he finished speaking Charles jerked in Hank's hold, his entire body shaking now. His eyes were rolling around in his head, mouth stretched open in a scream that was quickly cut off as he started to choke. Hank immediately tightened his hold, carefully lowering them to the floor and holding Charles' chest up to help him breathe.

Everyone was watching in muted horror and helplessness as Charles seemed to try and shake himself apart. Except for Azazel and the doctor he'd brought with him. Azazel stepped out of the elevator, walked around the bodies and picked up the discarded guns which he seemed to place on his person any where he could.

The doctor on the other hand, was just glaring at all of them. He couldn't say anything because of his gag, but Erik didn't need to be a psychic to tell that the man was thoroughly disgusted by what was going on. The idea that this man was involved, even responsible for putting Charles in this situation made Erik's blood boil.

Before he could do anything though, Azazel returned, holding one of the guns. He looked at the doctor, sneering a bit before he settled down next Charles. He reached out, running a hand lightly through the straggly hair. “It will be alright _Solnyshko._ We are leaving here, leaving and not coming back. You saved us _Solnyshko_ , it will be over soon...” Charle's blue eyes stopped rolling in his head, focusing shakily on Azazel.

Erik had to bite down on both his tongue and the insane desire to grab Azazel and pull him away from Charles. He wanted to demand that the other mutant tell him what was going on, what had happened. Mostly though, he wanted to know why it was that Charles seemed to respond only to him and no one else.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solnyshko - Sun  
> Krâlj - King  
> Xozjáin - Boss  
> Rybka - Fish


	7. For Every Evil Under The Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update. Life was a bit crazy for awhile and I just didn't have any energy for things. More or less back on track now and feeling inspired. Thanks everyone for the responses and kudos, it really makes me happy. I'm going to get around to responding soon, promise. :) Also the song that Sean sings is this song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVUrdjWNNMY

_For every evil under the sun,_

_There is a remedy, or there is none._

_If there be one, try and find it,_

_If there be none, never mind it._

 

The ride back to the plane took place in tense silence. No one knew what to say, in fact everyone seemed to be in shock. The shock continued until they were in the plane itself. Azazel had watched as everyone kept casting uncertain looks at Charles where he lay on the seat. When they arrived at the plane, Charles was carried into the plane and laid out on the long sofa.

Azazel followed after, feeling his own body shaking with fatigue. This was the most movement and exercise he had had in years. It was also the first time he had gotten to use his powers almost since he had been captured. Even that short trip had exhausted him.

It had been worth it though, so see the terror on Dr Cornelius' face when he had appeared in that room and grabbed him. He dragged the doctor onto the plane, planning on leaving his punishment for Charles. Or rather the other part of him, the part that all of the doctors in that place had feared. That would be for later though, now was a matter of enjoying the newly found freedom.

“Azazel.” He turned at the sound of the voice, taking in Raven standing behind him, holding out a stack of folded clothes. “If you want to wash up, there's a bathroom in the back.” She said quietly. “Do you...” She trailed off quietly, not seeming to be able to finish the question. Instead she glanced back over her shoulder at Charles who was laid out on the sofa.

“I'll be fine _Rybka_. But a chance to get clean would be appreciated.” He took the clothes from her, trying to summon up a smile. He didn't think he succeeded, it had been years since he had smiled for anyone but _Solnyshko_. Whatever he did though, it must have been enough before she nodded, going back to perch on one of the chairs facing the sofa.

The bathroom was small but luxurious. He set the clothes down, turning the water on as hot as it was possible. The warmth flowed through him, and he had a desire to just let out a soft moan at the feeling. Grabbing a cloth he wiped himself down as much as he could. Even that little bit made him cleaner than he had felt in years.

The clothes he had been given were all black, similar to what he used to wear. It was rather loose, but he was thinner than he had been before those bastards had captured him. Looking at himself in the mirror, he was honestly surprised by his appearance. The hair wasn't so bad, longer than he was used to, it was the bushiness of his beard that caught him off guard. For a moment, he thought he had been looking at his father. Like this, the resemblance was striking and he vowed to trim the thing as soon as he could.

Just as he was finishing up, Azazel felt a spike of distress. As he walked out he saw that Charles was conscious, his head moving around wildly. Azazel quickly moved closer, picking up on the worse that the telepath was muttering.

“Where is he? You said you wouldn't leave... He said he wouldn't leave me. Promised, promised. Should have known...”

Everyone was looking distressed and concerned, none of them seeming to know what to do. Erik was hovering protective and Raven kept trying to reach out only to pull back. The blonde and the redhead seemed to be the calmest of the lot, though they too looked shaken. The red head, Sean he remembered, was perched at the foot of the sofa, trying to calm Charles down.

Azazel hurried forward, knowing exactly what it was that Charles was talking about. “I'm here _Solnyshko_ , I'm here.” He lifted Charles up enough to sit down, resting Charles' head on his lap. He began to lightly brush his fingers through the brown waves, admiring the softness even though it hadn't been properly washed in ages. “I told you I wasn't going to leave you. I keep my promises, remember?” He said quietly, keeping up the rhythmic petting.

Beneath his hand he felt Charles slowly begin to relax, the tension and panic washing out of him. Azazel murmured softly to him for a few minutes, just nonsense comforting words he vaguely remembered hearing from his childhood back in Russia.

“I'm going to help Hank get ready for takeoff.” The words came from the blond, Alex, came the whispered voice in Azazel's mind. He left quietly, so that there were only three left. There was silence around him, but Azazel paid it no mind. Instead he focused on humming softly, an old lullaby that Charles had once said he liked the melody of. He kept it going as they took off, trying to ignore the feel of panic and distress that crossed his mind as the plane took off and gained altitude. The feeling didn't fade until the plane leveled off.

“We should treat his injuries.” Sean stood up, walking towards the back. “At least the ones we can until we're back at the mansion. Hank can give you a full check up then, right Professor?” He paused, like he was waiting for some kind of response. When none came he just headed towards the back, pausing to kick the unconscious doctor. Azazel thought he could quite like the redhead.

That left him with his former comrades, both of whom were staring at Charles like they expected him to disappear. And Charles, he just stared ahead like he did most days, especially after they left him hooked up to the Cyberno for long periods. It always took his _Kr_ _â_ _lj_ awhile to find his way back to his mind after that. He'd tried to explain it to Azazel once, describing it like being out in a sea of voices and trying to find your bearings with no compass.

“What happened Azazel?” Raven's voice was soft when she spoke, yellow eyes watching Charles worriedly. “Why is he like this? What did they do to him?”

Azazel felt his free hand clench tightly, anger trying to flare up before he ruthlessly pushed it back. Getting angry would not help matters, it certainly wouldn't help Charles at the moment. “Many things happened Raven. Many things that I can't speak of. Some of it is not mine to tell, other things... I won't repeat when he's like this.”

“So he gets better?” Erik's voice was hard, laced with thin threads of worry that Azazel could just pick out. “He isn't always...”

“Better is relative term. He is more alert usually, it depends on what they were doing, or how long they would keep him hooked up to Cyberno machine. The doctors...” Azazel couldn't fight off the sneer. “The doctors liked to test how far he could, how long he would last.” He felt his lips curl in a sneer. “Mutant X was their favorite test subject. Always saying they'd never found a brain more powerful, even when it is broken.”

He made himself stop talking, these were things he didn't need to be discussing. Especially not right now, not when _Solnyshko_ needed him. Azazel focused on calm thoughts, easier things to contemplate than what had been done to them. Plenty of time later for that, at the moment he just focused on petting Charles hair, knowing how the motion soothed him.

“Mutant X?” Raven's voice cracked as she spoke, but Azazel didn't look up to catch what her expression was. “That was... there was a file Trask had about a Mutant X. He was mentioned in your file too, but I never thought...” Azazel sensed her standing up, padding over to a nearby table and rustling through some papers.

That was when Sean returned, a white first aid kit clutched in his hands. He stopped in front of Azazel, staring at them for a minute. “Is it going to be ok if we clean him up a bit? Some of those wounds should at least be bandaged.” Looking up, Azazel stared at the young man for a long moment. Sean was determined, his desire to help showing clearly in his face. Unlike Erik and Raven though, there wasn't a specter of guilt around him. Pain, yes, and sorrow for what had been done to his mentor and the state he was in. Sean genuinely wanted to help his Professor in whatever way he could.

Azazel nodded, placing his hand on Charles' shoulder. “We're going to take a look now, get you cleaned up. Sean is going to help take care of your wounds.” There's no outward response, but then Azazel knows better than to expect one. Instead he feels for the faint acknowledgment in the back of his mind. When it comes he nods to Sean, letting him come crouch down in front of them.

The first touch of antiseptic against one of the wounds on his head has Charles flinching, letting out a low keen of pain. Instinctively Azazel brought his tail around, wrapping it lightly around Charles wrist. It wasn't meant to be a restraint, truthfully Azazel didn't have enough strength to hold anyone back for long. It was there for reassurance, a way to let Charles know that he was with him.

Azazel found it easier to focus on his tail, than to watch Charles' face flinch in pain with each touch. So he looked at his tail and the mutilated tip. No matter how many times he saw it, the sight still seemed wrong. The sharp tip had been cut off by the doctors after Azazel had lashed out a few too many times with it. There had been talk of amputating the entire thing, but there had been concern that it would affect his teleportation, back when they were still interested in his mutation. That had faded when they found that no matter how much they tried, they couldn't figure out how he was able to do it and that too many attempts was giving him opportunities to escape.

“Ok, I got all the spots on his head.” Sean said quietly. “There were some sore on his back, right?” At Azazel's nod, the other mutant took a deep breath. “Can you shift him over so I can look at those? Are there any others you know of?”

“Nyet, nothing else that can be treated here.” Azazel shifted, placing his arms around Charles and trying to gently roll him over. It wasn't easy, and soon enough Sean reached out and helped. Eventually Charles was laying on his other side so his back was facing outward.

Sean sucked a breath in through his teeth, looking away for a minute. Overall Azazel felt his response was more subdued than Erik's. Those blue eyes were locked on the sores and other scars that decorated Charles' back. The airplane gave a rather distressing creak around them, their altitude changing slightly from the strain.

“Erik! Calm down, we don't need you crashing the plane and killing all of us.” Sean barked the words out, swiveling around to glare at Erik for a moment, not stopping until the creaking stopped and the plane corrected itself. Then Sean turned back, taking a deep breath before reaching for the antiseptic.

Charles started whimpering softly after a couple of the sores were bandaged, his hand coming up to shakily grasp Azazel's tail. Charles was distressed because of the pain, and the pain was feeding his distress, creating a destructive emotional loop. As soon Sean became aware of it, he stopped, sitting back on his heels and staring at Charles' back.

“Earlier, what were you doing?” The words were unexpected from Sean, brown eyes fixing on Azazel's face. “When we were taking off, you were humming something to him.”

“Old lullaby from Russia that he liked. I don't remember the words, but the melody calms him. Music seems to help when things get bad.”

Azazel watched as Sean processed that, thinking for a moment. Then he nodded, taking a deep breath before he opened his mouth. Then something truly unexpected happened, Sean began to sing. His voice was surprisingly nice, a little rough perhaps but more than capable of carrying a tune. The song was in a language Azazel didn't recognize, but he could feel Charles relaxing into the sound.

“ _Seoithín, seo hó, mo stór é, mo leanbh_  
 _Mo sheoid gan cealg, mo chuid gan tsaoil mhór_  
 _Seothín seo ho, nach mór é an taitneamh_  
 _Mo stóirín na leaba, na chodladh gan brón.”_

Sean returned to cleaning the wounds, keeping up his singing the whole time. He went through the song two times before he was finished, putting everything back into the first aid kit. Sean let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair.

“What was that you were singing?” Erik was the one who asked the question, though Azazel had wondered as well.

“Its an old Irish lullaby, my ma used to sing it to me and my siblings when we were little.” There was something in Sean's voice when he spoke, something Azazel didn't feel like identifying. “I thought it might calm the Professor a bit.”

“It was beautiful Sean, thank you.” Erik's words are barely out before Sean's on his feet, hands clenched around the first aid kid. He didn't respond, just turned and headed to the back of the plane.

“You shouldn't mention it again.” Alex's voice was a surprise, quiet and subdued from where he was standing in the doorway to the cockpit. “Sean doesn't sing very often, and he's got his own reasons for that.” Blue eyes were staring at the back of the plane. “He only did it to calm the Professor, bringing it up or commenting on it will only upset him.” Alex straightened up, walking towards the back. “I'll get some clothes for him.

After Alex left, Azazel turned his attention back to Erik. His face was a familiar mask of despair and cold rage, his entire focus on Charles. For the first time, Azazel found himself wondering how all of this had come about. The last he remembered hearing about his former enemy turned former leader, the guards had taunted him about the great Magneto being locked under the Pentagon for an eternity.

“How did you find us?” The question was quiet, Azazel having gone back to absently petting Charles hair. “I thought you were in prison, _Xozj_ _á_ _in_ , how did you get out?”

Erik seemed to snap back to himself, looking at him for a minute. “They broke me out, yesterday in fact. Mystique broke into Trask's office.” He paused, turning and looking at Raven who was hunched over the nearby table, staring at a file. “She found the file mentioning that they still had you at one of their labs. She convinced the others to help break me out and then you, in exchange we were supposed to help them find Charles.”

“Ah, I see...” Azazel wasn't sure how to react to that. It was a conflicting, to think that they had still looked for him, that they would have looked for Charles too. Someone had been looking, unfortunately it had been not soon enough to save either of them. Not as they had been, and _Solnyshko_ would never be the same again. Even if somehow all the pieces could be fitted together.

Before his mind could wander much farther though, Alex came back with a pair of sweats. “They're probably a little big, but it'll help keep him warm for now.” Azazel nodded, taking the clothes. Slowly he managed to get Charles to sit up, blue eyes staring blankly at Erik. It was difficult to dress him like this, Azazel had not had to dress Charles in the lab. Truthfully, there had been only limited physical contact between them. Mostly they called Azazel in when Charles' behavior and the seizures became too erratic for them to work through. Most of his contact had been mental, taking place in Charles' mind or the gray space in between.

It still might not have been an issue, if he wasn't both exhausted and weak himself. The effort of keeping Charles upright and wrestling the shirt onto him was proving too much. Especially since he could even get the man to help him. Azazel hadn't been this weak in years, and it was only as he tried to focus that his own exhaustion crashed over him.

“Azazel... let me help.” Erik spoke softly, taking a small step forward. “Please.”

He watched Erik for a long minute. Ultimately it wasn't much of a choice, he needed the help, and Charles was beginning to shiver. He handed the sweat shirt over to Erik, holding Charles steady so they could get the shirt on him. After that came the pants, which was both easier and yet infinitely more awkward. Azazel watched Erik was stare intently at the thin, spindly legs that had atrophied from lack of use. He could almost taste the guilt that the man was feeling, similar to what it had been like that day on the beach.

To his credit though, Erik didn't voice his thoughts or let his guilt hold too much sway. Instead he focused on getting Charles dressed, wrapping the blanket back around him so he would stay warm. With that done, Erik moved back to his seat, even though his reluctance was obvious.

Charles had settled now, staring blankly ahead but not showing any significant discomfort. Azazel curled up next to him on the couch. He wasn't sure how long it would take to get where they were going, but he thought he would use the remaining time to rest. Before he dropped off though, he wrapped his tail around Charles' wrist.

 


	8. The Parting Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback! Here's the next chapter, I had feels writing it. Also Azazel is going to be one of the more dominant voices in the story. I like writing him. :)

_Of all the money e'er I had,_

_I spent it in good company._

_And all the harm I've ever done,_

_Alas! It was to none but me._

_And all I've done for want of wit_

_To mem'ry now I can't recall_

_So fill me the parting glass_

_Good night and joy be with you all._

 

Hank was glad when the plane landed and they were able to make the trip back to the mansion. The van they were using had been modified by himself to house the Professor's wheelchair, so fortunately there was plenty of room for everyone. Maybe not for all the baggage and guilt they were all carrying. Well, all of them except Azazel, who seemed to switch between focusing on the professor and staring out the window at the winter landscape rushing by them.

Then of course, there was the professor himself. Hank found it hard to meet that blank blue stare, the dark shadows making the blue stand out even more. It was hard to imagine that this was the same man, the same dynamic person that had brought all of them together, had taught them to control their powers and what it meant to fight for a cause you could believe in. Now there was just... nothing. Well not nothing exactly, Hank remembered the elevator, when Charles' mind had sharpened ever so briefly.

Hank didn't think that image would ever leave him.

He had always known Charles was powerful as a telepath, the work he had done with Cerebro both at the CIA and with the one they had built in the basement showed that. Charles had managed to stay in it for a few hours when he was looking for potential students, but he had always been drained afterwards. Drained and distant, a transition he had called it, from being around all those minds to being alone in his own.

The room they had held him, it had a machine too. Hank had gotten a good look at it as he worked to shut it off, but he wanted to confirmation. All of that though could wait, because the first priority was to get the Professor up to his room now that they were actually back at the mansion.

There was a lot of concern, almost everyone tried to follow up to the Professor's room, except for Alex and Sean. They put themselves in charge of storing their prisoner, (and wasn't it weird to think that they had prisoners now) away in one of the rooms in the bunker. A few of the rooms down there was tightly secured, had been made that way for the mutants that had hard to control powers or destructive ones. Everyone else though was following after him until he reached the room.

“I'll take care of him from here.” Hank said firmly, blocking the way into the bedroom. “Go downstairs and get something to eat. Azazel needs to eat something and the Professor will need to eat later too.” He could see Erik and Raven wanting to argue with him about it. Hank was surprised that Azazel didn't seem to be bothered by the order.

“Food, something warm would be nice. Been long time since I had anything worth tasting.” He smirked a little, the scars on his face stretching.

“You're not going to argue?” It seemed strange, given how protective he'd been of Charles on the plane. Azazel had barely left Charles' side the entire time, even sleeping he had kept physically in contact with the other mutant.

“Nyet. If _Kr_ _â_ _lj_ needs me, I'll know. Then I'll come. For now though, he doesn't need me.” There was a flicker of something across his face before he spoke again. “However, Hank, don't try to force him to sleep. _Kr_ _â_ _lj_ doesn't really sleep anymore, and if you try and force it... bad things happen.”

He frowned at that, looking down at the exhausted form of the Professor that hadn't responded at all to them talking about him. “He needs to rest, the body requires sleep to restore itself.” If the Professor wasn't sleeping, it explained some of his symptoms then.

“Perhaps, but he doesn't seep anymore. The last time he really slept it got... bad. So then he stopped. The way he is now, is as close as he gets.” Azazel stared at Charles for a minute before nodding.

Hank simply decided that arguing about it wasn't going to help anything. So he nodded and continued into the bedroom, pointedly closing the door behind him so none of them would try and follow. He heard muffled voices from outside, but he ignored them. Instead he carefully put Charles on the bed, the older man barely making a depression in the mattress.

Now that he was alone with his patient, he had to think of it that way to keep from breaking down, he had to figure out what to do next. Sean had done an excellent job patching up the various sores and wounds, however he was still rather filthy. Charles needed a bath, or at least a good sponging down, to remove the grime and... other things. All of which needed to be done preferably before he started treating any wounds in order to avoid infection. Even if Hank though it might be too late for that, taking in the light sweat on his face.

With a sigh he stood up, retrieving a bowl and washcloth from the bathroom. It would serve to get the worst of the... filth taken off. They could work out bathing him later, hopefully when Charles was a little more alert and able to take care of it on his own. Hank told himself he wanted to save the Professor whatever dignity he might have left, except the words didn't quite sound right in his own head.

Forcing the thought from his head, Hank reached for clinical detachment, automatically running the clothe over the revealed skin, cataloging injuries as he went. Some of them were fresh, a couple of bruises just started to turn from blue-black to a rather nasty yellow color. Older bruises were starting to fade from yellow to a more pallid color.

There were other marks on him, scars of various sizes, several in the shape of electrodes. What was interesting was quite a few of them were faded almost to the point of not being noticeable, if Charles hadn't been so thin. The stretch of skin over bones made it easier to pick them out, and Hank wondered briefly where the professor had come by some of them.

The thought of electrodes brought Hank back to a subject he had been trying to avoid. Carefully, in case Charles suddenly decided to protest, he began to examine spots on his scalp where the electrodes had been placed. He wasn't worried about infection or anything like that, Sean really had done very well with cleaning them all, it was more that he was memorizing the placement of them. To anyone else maybe it would appear random, but to Hank the spots told a story, one that made his stomach twist.

When he had looked at the machine they'd had there, taken in the domed ceiling, it had struck him as familiar. The longer he worked the machine, the more he realized it was too familiar. Now as he examined the marks on Charles' head, he couldn't deny it any longer.

The machine they had had the Professor hooked up to, was a bastardized version of Cerebro. It wasn't a very good version of the machine either. Obviously they had copied the plans the CIA had of Hank's original machine and had tried to modify it. It was nothing compared to the Cerebro that they had built in the bunker, but it had still been effective. Given the way Charles had acted and the amount of skin that had been pulled off when the electrodes removed, they'd obviously had him hooked up to it for quite some time.

But how long? And how much damage could prolonged exposure do? Before... before Charles had only been in Cerebro for maybe three hours at the most, and when he'd left he'd been rather pale. That was with a superior machine. Hank doubted that the people who had held them had cared about what kind of damage their machine might do.

~*~*~

Azazel followed a very reluctant Raven and Erik to the kitchen. He could sympathize with their desire to stay, but he also knew that Hank was correct. Them watching the examination would not help anything, it would only cause more harm. He had a feeling there would be a lot of that in the future, no sense in rushing it.

“I'm not sure what exactly is still here... I don't think anyone's been staying in the house. Except maybe Hank, a little.” Raven spoke, having already changed back to her natural form and began to inspect the cabinets.

It was strange, Azazel thought, to be in a place he had never been before yet to be intimately familiar with it too. He had seen it in _Solnyshko's_ memory several times, yet it didn't match up exactly. The appliances had been changed, the stove and the pots were all different. Everything was in the same place though. Looking at Raven as she opened the fridge and poked around inside of it, he was hit with a thought.

“You were so beautiful as a child.” Azazel didn't stop to think about what he had said, how it would sound. The words just slipped out on their own. It wasn't until he saw Raven stiffen, turning to look at him with large yellow eyes that he thought perhaps it would sound strange.

“What do you mean?” Her voice was guarded, and she shut the fridge to stare at him, her arms crossing over her chest. Erik too was watching Azazel, but he was more a mixture of curious and surprised than anything else.

“When you were little, when _Solnyshko_ found you in here, you were at the fridge. You pretended to be Mother but then you changed when he caught you.” Azazel could see the images as if they were glass plates superimposed on each other, the younger and the elder. “He thought you were beautiful.”

Raven had gone pale as he spoke, her scales standing out rather clearly against her skin now. “How... how do you know that? I never... Did Charles tell you about that?”

“Nyet, he showed it to me.” Azazel hadn't thought it was possible for her to get any paler, but now he saw it was possible.

“How? How did he show it to you? When?”

“About a week before everything broke apart.” Azazel thought back to that time, remembering.

~*~*~

_Azazel had been aware of the pull he had come to associate with Charles bringing him into his mind. It had been happening more recently, not that Azazel minded. He rather thought it was an escape for both of them. Except this time when he looked around, he felt worry spiking through him._

_All around him, the lovely stained glass was full of cracks. Some of it looked like it had been patched over, but most weren't. Azazel had seen the cracks growing with each visit, but there had never been this many before, or this large. It left an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach._

_'Its not going to last for much longer.' Charles mental voice echoed, stepping from behind the tall pillar that stood in the center. The white stone that illuminated it cast eerie shadows on his face. 'All of this, its becoming too much. Soon enough, it will break apart.' Charles, even in his mind looked gaunt._

_Azazel frowned, feeling his tail lashing behind him. 'Is there nothing you can do, Krâlj?'_

_'Maybe I could, I tried for a bit.' Charles gestured to the places that looked like they had been spackled over. 'I'm tired Azazel, I'm very tired of it all.' He walked towards the Russian, and it wasn't until he was standing in front of him that he saw Charles was holding something in his hands._

_'What is that Krâlj?'_

_Charles looked down. 'This is part of why I brought you here Azazel. I heard them earlier, they were talking about terminating you. Since they couldn't discover any more about your mutation, you're considered expendable.' Charles looked at Azazel, those blue eyes almost glowing. 'I won't let that happen, so I'm going to do something and I apologize for it now.'_

_Azazel suddenly felt like his brain was being pulled out through his ears, then smashed back into his skull. It didn't hurt exactly, but it was surely not comfortable. When it was over, his senses had expanded and he saw that there was a window now in Charles mind. A window that looked like it opened up onto Russia in the middle of winter._

_'I've made you now the one person who will be able to calm me, after everything falls apart. It will keep you alive once they realize that. Its a telepathic link between the two of us, only breakable when I die.” He let out a slow breath. “I'm sorry, my friend.” He gestured towards the window. “That there is your mind. Its a door when you need it to be, any other time it will be a window. Eventually, I'm sure you'll learn to close the curtains.'_

_Before Azazel could respond though, Charles was placing something in his hands. Looking down, it looked like small jewels in a variety of colors. Deep blue, bright red, orange, yellow, different colors and shapes all pressed into his hands. 'These are some of my memories, the happy ones. There aren't many that I have, and I don't want to loose these. They should live on somewhere.' He looked up, a wry smile crossing his face. 'This way, when you abandon me too, a part of me will go with you.'_

_Azazel frowned, staring at Charles. 'I'm not going to abandon you Krâlj, I told you that before.' He closed his hands around the jewels, around the memories and pulled them close._

_Charles gave a small snort before shaking his head. 'Yes you will my friend.' Blue eyes filled with sadness looked at him. 'Everyone does. But this time, I get to ensure a piece of me is there too.'_

_Azazel knew better than to try and argue. He had told him several times that he wasn't going to abandon him. Each time Charles just smiled and said the same thing. He doubted he would be able to convince Charles of it now any more than he had then. Instead, Azazel looked over at the large white stone that stood in the pillar. 'What is that?'_

_There was a moment of silence as Charles walked over to it, placing his hand on it. The light it gave was flickering now. It had always been bright when Azazel had been here before, but it grew dimmer each time._

_'This? This is my hope Azazel.” Charles pressed his hand flat against it. 'Without it, this place will crumble within the week. After all, things are only as strong as the foundation underneath them. This is the last one for me.”_

_'Give it to me then Krâlj.' He spoke before he could stop himself, holding out his open hand. 'I will it keep safe for you, like the others. Until you're ready to take it back.'_

_'You want my hope?' Charles sounded surprised, staring at Azazel for a long minute. 'Truly? That's different than just taking my memories you realize.'_

_'I'm sure. It is best part of you Krâlj, and it should survive too'_

_There was a moment of disbelieving silence before Charles turned away. He pressed his hands against the white stone, then slowly pulled it out. There was a gaping hole in the pillar now,the entire thing looking much more precarious. He turned and held it silently out to Azazel._

_He took it gently, surprised by the warmth in it. 'I keep it safe for you, perhaps one day you'll want it back.'_

_Charles gave a small laugh. 'Maybe, but I doubt it.'_

_It was a week later when it happened. Azazel was woken out of sleep by a sharp pain shooting through head. He opened his eyes to see and image of Charles standing in front of him. The mental projection gave one small smile before fracturing and finally breaking apart._

_Azazel immediately went to the window in his mind. Where before there had been stained glass, now there was only shards floating everywhere. One of the largest pieces was floating right in front of him. Without thinking Azazel reached forward, grabbing it and pulling it into his mind. Then he carefully set it with the memories and the glowing stone that represented Charles' hope._

_~*~*~_

“He gave me what he called his happy memories. He didn't want them to be destroyed.” Azazel smiled at her. “Meeting you, here, it was one of them.” He didn't add that there were barely half a dozen of them in total.

There came a soft sound before Mystique turned away. She went back to searching the cupboards, refusing to look at them. Erik looked upset as well when Azazel glanced over at him. He was staring at the table like he could incinerate it with his glare. His jaw was strung tighter than Azazel had ever seen it. Part of him, perhaps the part of Charles Azazel had rescued from the destruction, was gratified to see that. It made it easier to sit down across from Erik at the table.

The silence between them stretched, the only thing breaking the sound was Raven's shuffling and then the sound of a can being opened. The idea of food made Azazel's stomach rumble, reminding him it had been a day or so since the last time someone at the lab had brought food. He had never been sure if it was cruelty on their part, or if the doctors just forgot that their test subjects needed to eat as well.

“What happened to Charles in there?” Erik's voice was rough. “How did they even get him anyway?”

Azazel shrugged a bit, staring at the German. “I'm not sure how they got him, I thought he would have had some kind of protection. I just heard them saying something about New York. As for what they did to him... too many to list some days. The same as the rest of us. They were rather more taken with _Kr_ _â_ _lj_ than the rest of us.”

Before Erik could press for more details, the door opened and Hank walked in. The younger mutant looked around, his eyes fixing on Azazel before walking over. Without preamble he sat down, clenching his hands together. “What was that machine they had the Professor hooked up to?”

Raven set a bowl of thin soup in front of him, tiny bits of noodle and... was that supposed to be chicken? It smelled kind of like chicken, and before he could think better of it Azazel picked up the accompanying spoon and ate some. The flavor hit his tongue, definitely chicken with a fair bit of salt, and more flavor than he had tasted in years. It was only through force of will, accompanied by half-faded memories of the last time he had been starved that kept him from guzzling the soup.

He had only taken a few more bites before he remembered the question that had been asked. “The machine?” Azazel made a face. “Horrible thing. Doctor Cornelius called it Cyberno. He liked to test how much he could stretch the telepaths powers with it. How long they could be inside it before the couldn't take more.”

Hank grimaced, letting out a small snarl at that. “They based the thing on my Cerebro design, only they must not have understood it that well because they turned it into some kind of torture device. The idea of keeping someone in there for long periods, it's barbaric.”

Azazel nodded, drinking some more soup. “It is. The only time I ever heard Emma beg was when they went to put her back in the machine. She begged them to stop, and _Kr_ _â_ _lj_ even volunteered to go in her place. They wouldn't heard of it, they wanted to see what the real difference was in their power.” He shuddered when he remembered the screaming he had heard, both in his ears and his head. Azazel had tried to block it out, used everything he knew to do it. As horrible as it was for him, he knew that had been only the faintest whisper of what she had been feeling.

“Before you came, they were experimenting on how long they could keep the device powered up with _Kr_ _â_ _lj_ in it.” Azazel felt his hand clench around the spoon, the grip still so weak. He would have to work to regain his strength. “They had him in there for almost two months this time. It's why he still hasn't recovered yet. He told me it was like being out at sea, he has to find his way back.”

Hank let out a growl. He truly sounded like a true beast then, an angry one at that. The boy was finally living up to the name he had given himself. Hank wasn't alone in that anger, Azazel could feel the metal in the spoon vibrating as he focused on his soup.

The whole situation was rather familiar. Thin soup and heavy silence, how very much like home it was. The home of younger years and adolescence, a great war raging in the west and barely enough food for one person being stretched to cover half a dozen. Long ago memories that he shook off. It would do no good to think about the long gone past.

“You still haven't told us Azazel.” Erik's voice was low, edged with that familiar anger. “How exactly Charles became like that.”

“You should know better than anyone else Erik, a person can only take so much.” His tail snapped behind him angrily. “His mind broke, shattered into pieces that keep him going. Even _Kr_ _â_ _lj_ is only a man, they searched until they found his breaking his point. Will you feel better knowing it took them four years to get him to the point? Four years of hell before he gave up, stopped repairing the damage the endless damage being done to his mind.” The image came again of that last day, of Charles breaking apart like a pane of glass, the shards of what had been his mind swirling in emptiness.

“What you see there, what you saw in the lab, that is what's left now. Sometimes he has better days, when there's more there. Then there are the bad days. You don't want to be around for those.” Azazel had seen those days, flashes of red and more than one person keeling over in pain as they clutched their head. No, the days of blankness were a blessing compared to the bad days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rhyme at the front is actually an Irish farewell song called The Parting Glass. While I was editing this chapter that seemed to fit better than what I was originally going to use. So now we've found out what happened to Charles, or at least a little bit of it. My poor baby...


End file.
